I was King of Narnia
by PippinStrange
Summary: Peter's entire epic story from his POV. Life in London, Narnia, and back to the Real World. Details combining movie, book, and my ideas. Chapter 68 is posted, this novel is now COMPLETE! Sequel planned 4 Prince Caspian's release! Authors notice! R&R!
1. Goodbye Dad

**Chapter one – Goodbye Dad**

The night was very cool. It had rained most of the evening and relented just before we went to bed. The fires were put out and windows cracked open, letting in some spring breezes. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned awhile, then felt movement at the end of the room. I glanced up and saw Edmund slip out of his bed, tiptoe across the room, and try to open the window the rest of the way without much sound.

"Ed!" I whispered sternly. He jumped back, surprised.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he snapped.

"I'd ask the same of you," I said, getting out of bed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Edmund said. "I just wanted more air."

"You were sneaking out, weren't you?" I strode across the room and shut the window with a bang and locked it.

"No," Edmund lied.

"Then why are you dressed." I didn't even have to ask the question.

Edmund backed away towards the door. "Alright, so I was. But I'm still going."

"Those friends from school," I concluded. "They put you up to this. You're always following the crowd. You've turned into a big bully."

"Dad doesn't think so," argued Edmund.

"You don't tell Dad what you've been up to!" I said angrily. "But someone should!"

Edmund's face turned pale and he planted himself in front of the door. "Please, Peter, don't!"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Please." Edmund almost looked close to tears. "Dad…well, he just…"

"You don't want to ruin the image he already has of you," I said sternly.

We both heard the knock on the door. Our arguing was forgotten. The last thing we wanted to hear was a knock of the door in the middle of the night.

_No…Dad please…no! _I thought, my mind scrambling as I shoved Ed out of the way and pulled open the door. The knocking was coming from the front door, down the steps. I saw Dad reach the bottom step and pull open the door. Mum passed me in the hall, catching my eyes briefly, looking worried. She went down the stairs and placed a hand on Dad's shoulder as he spoke in low tones with the man at the door.

"I can't see," Edmund tried to get around me and peer over the railing. "Who is it?"

The door was shut. My father's shoulders sagged a moment, then he and Mum turned left and headed for the kitchen.

"Come on," said Edmund, tugging my sleeve. "Let's listen."

"No." I said. "They need to be alone."

Susan emerged from her room, tying a bathrobe and yawning. "What's going on?" she asked.

"It's Dad," said Edmund. "Someone came and talked to him."

Susan blinked a moment. She knew as well as I what had happened, but neither of us decided to explain it to Edmund.

"He handed him a paper," Edmund continued. "Do you suppose they're arresting him or something?"

"They don't do it like that," protested Susan. "And be quiet. You'll wake Lucy."

"Of course," Edmund snapped. "We don't want to wake the baby."

"You used to be her age too," I snapped, glaring at him. "Can't you at least say one sentence without ratting on Lucy every time?"

"Boys." Susan said quickly. "Don't start. It's nearly twelve thirty. Shouldn't we all go back to bed?"

"Back to bed," I repeated, suddenly remembering what Edmund had planned to do. "You first."

I watched carefully as he walked dejectedly into the bedroom. Susan glanced at me. "What was that about?" she asked.

"Nothing."

The next morning I arose quietly before Edmund woke up, hoping to have a moment with Dad.

I dressed and went downstairs, finding Dad at the table drinking coffee. He was still in his robe.

"Didn't you go back to bed at all last night?" I asked.

"Oh, good morning Peter," he said. He completely avoided my question. "Do you want some coffee?"

"I'll have tea," I said, a little bewildered. I never drank coffee. "Dad, about last night---"

"I'm leaving tomorrow," finished Dad. "I didn't realize you were awake."

"Everyone except Lucy."

"It looks like I shall have less people to explain it to then," Dad said, rubbing his temples and sighing. "I hate telling people hard news."

"Edmund doesn't understand."

Dad looked up. "Oh Peter, I don't even understand either."

I slumped down in a chair, absentmindedly poking a roll on a plate. "Edmund needs you right now. And now you have to leave."

Dad stood suddenly. "How can I be a good father if I'm away? I need to be here. With you. And with the rest of the family. Edmund is going through a hard time now, and I can't even be here for him." He started to pace. "But what can I do. My country needs me."

I stood. "Dad, you…you don't have to worry."

Dad stopped and looked at me, almost looking expectant of what I was saying.

"I know I'm not a Dad. But I can do my best. You don't have to worry about the family; I'll take care of them."

Dad strode over to me and wrapped me in a hug. "Thank-you, Peter. I see I'm not leaving behind my oldest boy, I'm leaving behind a man to take care of things."

"I hope so," I whispered, taking a shaky breath and pulling back. "I think---"

Lucy came in at that moment, rubbing her eyes. "Is breakfast ready?" she asked.

"Your Mum is feeling a little poorly," Dad rushed over and picked her up in his strong arms. "This is why I am going to take you out to breakfast! Go get dressed, my dear, and find Susan. I'm taking you girls out."

Lucy clapped her hands with excitement and rushed from the room.

Dad sighed when she left the room. "My poor girl."

"She will have a hard time understanding. She's so young." I said.

"Do not underestimate that Lucy," Dad chuckled. "She's full of surprises."

I finally felt the need to go off and be by myself. "I'll be in the garden," I said quickly, opening the door and rushing towards the large tree. I plopped down on the bench next to it and took a shuddering breath.

Was he really leaving? I was so hard to believe. Within a month, we could be like the thousands of kids at school, receiving the little yellow telegram from a man on a bicycle, then we would all wear black, and life would seemingly cease to exist.

I shook myself. No. He wouldn't die!

We stood sullenly on the porch, waiting. It was so quiet. And it would rain, wouldn't it?

Dad finally came out of the house, putting his brown bag on the ground. First, he hugged Lucy.

"My dear," he said kindly. Edmund rolled his eyes. "I am going to miss you and your spunkiness! Did you know that?"

Lucy sniffled and shook her head.

"I love you, my sweet," he hugged her and kissed her head. "Write me your beautiful letters?"

She nodded yes, unable to speak. It was so unlike her. It made my heart sag to see her with the lack of optimism.

"And Edmund," Dad went to Edmund and placed a hand on either shoulders. "Be brave. Listen to your family. Do you know what I'll miss?"

"Not me," said Edmund quietly.

"No," Dad chided gently. "I'll miss you and me. Together. I'll miss our fishing trips, and stopping by the depot to see the trains. Keep me in your prayers."

Edmund looked upset that Dad would ask him that. Edmund always avoided praying. When it was his turn to pray at mealtimes, he always kept it short, hoping that will prevent him from answering to Someone higher above.

"I will, Dad." He raised his chin slightly.

"You're going to become a good man," said Dad, kissing the top of his head. He stepped to Susan.

"My beautiful girl," he started. Susan's eyes filled with tears, and she looked down. Susan always felt weak when she cried in front of people.

"Don't cry," said Dad. "I will be back soon. The war will be over and we will go to Berkahms." Susan's eyes lighted up a bit. She always wanted to go to Berkahms. Berkahms was a lovely restaurant and club. A lot of the American soldiers could afford to go there when they stayed for a short time in London. I'd heard the Andrew's Sisters, singers from America, performed there once.

"You don't have to worry about a thing here," said Susan bravely. "Mum and I will take care of the house and everything."

"Good girl," Dad finished, kissing her head. Then he stepped down the line to me. "Well son, you are in charge now." He said, brushing my hair away from my face. "I'm trusting you to protect the family."

"I know," I said. I hesitated a moment, then gave him a hug, begging providence it wouldn't be my last.

"Good man," he said, pulling back. "I shouldn't have to worry about a thing, now, will I?"

A jeep pulled up, giving the horn a small bleep. Dad looked at each of our faces in turn, picked up his bag, and wrapped an arm around Mum's shoulders. They walked down together. Dad threw his bag in the trunk, and then whispered something to Mum. She nodded and let a few tears fall down her face. He hugged her strongly, and then kissed her passionately. Edmund sighed and turned away. Susan and Lucy stared on, sobbing plainly now. I just couldn't believe I was finally seeing this. The final goodbyes were said. He stepped into the jeep. The jeep pulled away, while Dad craned his body around and waved. He waved until he disappeared around the bend.

And then he was gone. As easily as that.

We went inside to an empty, silent house. I went upstairs and pulled out a Stevenson classic. Edmund sat on the floor, peering into a book around Warfare. Susan went outside and sat on the bench, thinking quietly. Lucy ran to her bedroom and threw herself upon the bed, sobbing. Mum followed to comfort her.

We all did something alone. Yet we all were missing the heartbeat of the family.

And so it continued for some time.


	2. Air Raids

**Capegio: **Thank-you for your review! I hope you like this next chapter. Tell your fanfiction friends, I'd love some more reviews.

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**Chapter Two, Air Raids**

"My dears," Mum said in a tired voice. "I have something to tell you. Come into the sitting room."

I grasped Lucy's hand and tugged her along. Susan came along behind me. Edmund just dragged his feet.

"This is very important," said Mum, sitting in an armchair next to the radio. "You see, the Germans--"

"Has something happened to Dad?" blurted Edmund.

"Ed." I said with some warning.

"No, dear." Mum said patiently, giving me a look that told me I'd been too quick to shush him. "I've had a letter from him this morning, and he says a personal letter to each one of you is on the way."

"It will be here soon?" asked Lucy quickly.

"Yes, quite soon." Mum sighed. "Now, let me speak. There may be air raids."

"Air raids?" asked Lucy confusedly.

"That's where the planes swoop down and bomb the cities!" Edmund said quickly, delighted to find something to scare her about. "Everything explodes."

Lucy gasped and looked at her mother. "Really, Mum?"

"Edmund," said Mum sternly. "I had a very special way of describing it as to not frighten you all. But you have quite beaten me to it."

Edmund looked down. "Yes Mum."

Mum continued to describe the possibilities and the safety precautions we must take. She distributed a mask to each one of us, telling us to hold it over our faces if ever a bomb fell and we were unprotected from poisonous fumes.

"Will we use the bomb shelter?" asked Susan practically.

"We're not allowed in there," said Lucy, having a harder time comprehending it all.

"You are now," Mum said. "Anytime you hear the air raid siren."

Susan stood up quickly. "I'll go to the cellar and take some of the canned goods and put it in the bomb shelter. Edmund can come help me."

Edmund stood grudgingly. "Fine."

I gave him a warning look while pulling Lucy into my lap. We sat a moment quietly, each looking at our own gas mask and wondering if we'd have to use it.

Mum finally stood and said shortly, "I'll be getting blankets and such upstairs."

"I'll be up momentarily to help you," I said. Lucy slipped off my lap and smiled at me, then turned and headed for the kitchen.

I followed Mum upstairs and began packing a crate of towels. Mum handled me a bottle of aspirin to tuck in between layers. We were silent.

Finally, I couldn't stand the silence much longer. "Mum?" I asked.

"Yes dear?" she said softly.

"How can I be of more help?"

"Peter," she said in a gentle, scolding voice. "You've been working very hard these past two months to make up for your father's absence. But you are in no way to try and replace him, I still want the Head of the Household to be first and foremost my son."

I opened my mouth to respond when I heard Lucy's shrill scream from the cellar. She didn't sounds hurt, only panicked.

"Can you check on the other children?" Mum asked, scrambling to find more supplies.

I complied and ran downstairs to find Lucy sniffling, Susan looking exasperated, and Edmund cheerful.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Edmund put on his gas mask and frightened Lucy," Susan raised her hands in surrender. "I don't know what to do about these two!"

"She's afraid of a little gas mask," snickered Edmund.

"I am not," Lucy said indignantly. "I just didn't expect to be face to face with it. And I certainly didn't expect it to growl and chase me up the cellar stairs."

"Edmund!" I said, turning to him. "Why do you do this all the time?"

"It's funny."

"Hurting others is not funny."

"Some are just easily frightened."

I pulled his arm and pointed him towards the stairs. "Go help Mum upstairs. And while you are up there, tell her what you did."

"I don't want to," protested Edmund.

"Do it." I said. "I could write to Dad."

He fled upstairs.

"You didn't have to threaten him," Susan said curtly, turning and going down the cellar stairs.

"He's only a few years older than me," Lucy said in his defense, following Susan.

"And now everyone is upset with me!" I said to no one in particular. "How THAT came about, I have no idea."

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	3. A Long Night

**Chapter Three, A Long Night**

There was a man at the door, banging with both fists. "Let me in!" he cried. I ran slowly forward and tried to pull open the door, but it was stuck. I forced it open and let the man inside. He fell to his knees and held a small yellow paper out in front of him. "Urgent Delivery," he whispered, then fell to the floor, dead. Trembling, I reached forward and took the paper from his frozen hands.

Mr Pevensie dead Stop Wounded somewhere in Germany Stop Bled to death Stop He sends love to his family Stop

My hands shook. The paper fell to the floor. It made no noise when it hit the rug, but when the telegram made contact it resounded through the house, shaking the foundations all the way to the rooftop.

I gasped and my eyes opened. I was lying on my bed, still dressed. I had been dreaming. It was only a dream. But I still felt a little shaken.

I stood and walked across the room, glancing at the clock. It was only nine. Edmund wasn't even in bed yet, I had only fallen asleep reading. The house sounded too quiet.

I felt something jolt outside and give the house a tremble. Light flickered against the wall. I whirled and peered out the window. Lights were on. Something was on fire.

Then the siren began.

I shot out of the room, calling as I ran. "Come on Susan," I shouted, seeing her go back into Lucy's bedroom. I waited till I saw her pull the sleepy Lucy out into the hall, crying. I led the way down the stairs and pushed them towards the kitchen. Wait…where was Edmund?

"Edmund!" my mother shouted, pulling Edmund out of the sitting room. "Get away from there!"

Edmund fought her as she pulled him outside. We ran for the shelter, begging that we could cover the small yard before another bomb fell. Shadows passed low overhead. The crashing of the bombs and erupting of fire throbbed in the air. The low drone of the plane engines grinded painfully into the earth.

Suddenly Edmund broke loose. Mum screamed and started to go after him. She can't go after him, the girls need her. Dad would have followed. I knew I had to.

"I'll get him," I shouted over my shoulder, running like I felt hell following on my heals. Edmund went inside the house. What was he doing?

He rushed into the sitting room again, lunging for the tiny snapshot of Dad sitting on the table.

I saw the light approaching. Orange heat erupted above. I launched myself over Edmund and knocked him to the floor, yelling, "Get down!"

The window shattered above us. Glass splinters made a chiming sound, glistening over us like snow. Edmund scrambled to grab the picture.

"Come on!" I yelled. I pulled him away and threw him ahead of me. The lights outside were increasing. Flames licked the star speckled sky. The planes droned on and on. Suddenly we were under cover. The roof was over us. Edmund was knocked to the cot, gasping in pain and tears running down his face.

"What were you thinking?" I shouted. "You could have gotten us killed!"

"Stop it!" said Mum sternly, in a voice I hardly ever heard. I hadn't done anything wrong…why was I getting yelled at?

Mum reached forward tenderly and lifted Edmund into her arms, comforting him quietly. I frowned and shook my head in disbelief.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?" I said softly, turning around. I slammed the shelter door for all it was worth. Susan looked at me painfully, holding Lucy to her chest and stroking her hair. Mum had Edmund, Susan had Lucy. I looked at them a moment, then hoisted myself onto the bunk. After a few moments, Mum lowered Edmund and pushed a blanket over him. She stood and peered up at me, sitting sullenly.

"Peter dear," she started. I met her gaze and took a deep breath. She patted my hand. "Get out of that sweater," she said. "It has glass splinters in it. Let me help you."

There were times I just wanted to be comforted in her arms, but I knew I was getting too old. I needed to be like Dad and be strong.

I stepped down and let her help me out of the blue sweater. The task was completed with hardly any scratches. Afterwards, I looked at her again.

"Thank-you, Mum," I said.

"You are welcome, sweetheart."


	4. Cheerless Dawn

**Elektrum: **Thank-you! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Capegio: **Thank-you for your faithful reviewing! This chapter may seem a little angsty because Peter, at the moment, feels very sad. But don't worry, his strong personality will return for the next chapter.

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**Chapter Four, Cheerless Dawn**

I opened my eyes and surveyed the cluttered shelter. Lucy and Susan lay curled up below. Mum lay in the cot. Edmund was next to me asleep. I vaguely remembered helping Edmund out of his glass-shredded sweater and putting him to bed. It'd been ages since Edmund had let me help him in any way. He was too defensive and stubborn and any outside help made him feel weak.

I shook myself and lowered myself quietly from the bunk. I opened the door and gray daylight poured in. The dawn was chilled and fresh. I stepped up into the yard and surveyed the neighborhood. Black pits smoked in the street where a bomb had annihilated an innocent house or innocent drive. The air smelled tangy and burned my lungs. I could hardly recognize our street.

I was relieved to see the house remained intact. I peered behind me, and seeing that the family was still asleep, I crept across the yard and let myself inside.

"What a mess," I said to myself. The sitting room had the most damage with the shattered window and ruined furniture from with the smoke outside had blackened their edges. I picked up the rug and dragged it out the front door, then hung it up on the clothesline. Then I found a broom and began to sweep the wood floor. Shards of glass crackled and snapped as I stepped carefully over them.

I stopped and looked at the clock. It wasn't even seven yet. I wondered when I had gotten up. I normally wasn't an early riser, but I suppose it worked anyhow. Dad would have gotten up early and tried to fix things. And since he wasn't here, I had to do what he would have done.

"Peter?" Susan came through the door from the kitchen. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said, handing her the dustpan. "Will you dump this in the waste basket please?"

"Yes," Susan said doubtfully, dumping it in the kitchen waste basket. "Have you had your breakfast?"

"No."

"I'll fix you some."

"I'm not hungry. But thank-you."

Susan peeked back in and surveyed my clean-up job. "You never were the cleaning type."

"Dad is."

Susan shrugged. "You aren't Dad."

"Dad isn't here, so I need to be!" I shouted, instantly regretting snapping at her. "Susan, sorry. I know you knew that."

"I'm no dolt," Susan added carefully, "I can tell when my own father isn't at home."

"I know you can. You're always so…smart."

Susan smiled a little. "You're grumpy. But that is okay. I'll fix everyone breakfast."

I smiled softly at her and laid the broom aside. I pulled a tennis racket from the closet and went outdoors, where I spent a few minutes beating the rug.

Mum came out of the yard from the side gate, calling, "Good morning, Peter! You seem to be working hard!"

"If we can afford it, Mum," I joked. "We ought to invest in one of those new-fangled vacuum cleaners."

"I've heard they only suck in the carpet," Mum joked back. "I'll look into it, dear. You may work a few more minutes, but I want you to come back inside for some breakfast."

After a few more beatings, I looked up at the sky. A hint of spring rain blew gently in a breeze. Neighbors began to emerge from their bomb shelters, waving cheerless greetings towards me. I waved back, then hesitated. A tiny bell jingled near the street. I turned slowly around, hoping against hope that I was imagining things. The bell jingle grew closer.

A bike pulled around the curve of the street, ringing its tiny horn. A man in a brown uniform pedaled down the street, looking grave and quiet. My heart leapt to my throat. This wasn't happening.

He slowed to stop by our front gate, then pulled a tiny yellow paper from his bag. He peered at the address, then peered at our house number. He put a pair of eye glasses on, then repeated the feat. Sighing, he moved on to the house next door.

I breathed a sigh of fantastic relief. Thank-God! The telegram wasn't for us.

The post-man walked up to the house next door, where the Bennets lived. He knocked on the door. I felt a knot in my stomach.

He handed the telegram to Mrs. Bennet. A shrilling scream rang out into the cheerless dawn. I felt queasy and sick.

Mrs. Bennet was a widow. Her husband hadn't enlisted—her son had. I'd known her son for years. He left long ago. And now I knew he was gone off the face of the earth.

I bolted into the house.

"Breakfast," called Lucy cheerfully.

"Not hungry!" I shouted.

"But, Peter," she started.

"I need to be alone!" I called back, running up the stairs. I rushed into my room and sat upon the bed. I felt shriveled and weak. I couldn't act like Dad…not right now…

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	5. Send Away All Children

**Capegio: **Thanks! Sorry, this may still be slightly angsty, but everything is resolved in the end. I promise by the next chapter that Peter will be as strong and stubborn as ever. :-)

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**Chapter Five, Send Away All Children**

It was some fifteen minutes later when I collected myself and joined the family downstairs. I was met with confused looks from the girls. Edmund looked cheerful. Mother looked…upset.

"I told you to come in for breakfast," she said as I sat down.

"I know."

"Why didn't you?"

"I lost my appetite," I said.

"So I heard," she said quietly, raising her eyebrows. I caught her meaning and glanced at my youngest sister.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Lu," I said.

"Quite alright," she replied, brightening. Edmund looked disappointed that I hadn't been more severely scolded.

"You are all quite done with breakfast," said Mum, "Why don't you go into the sitting room. I need to talk to Peter."

Edmund looked at me with a gleeful smile and followed the girls out of the kitchen.

"You disobeyed me," said Mum.

"I know."

"It's hardly a big deal, Peter, but Edmund watches your every move. You have to remember that you are the eldest and must set an example for him."

I hadn't thought of that. How could I have done that? Now he must think he could get away with anything—even something as little as skipping meals.

"Sorry, Mum." I wasn't going to try and give her any excuses. What good would that do?

"Now," Mum said, "Try not to yell at your sister. Just tell me if you'd prefer not to eat, rather than hiding upstairs. Edmund does it all too often."

"Of course." I helped her begin to clear the table. Then the telephone rang.

"Well!" said Mum. "At least we still have some electricity!" She reached forward and picked it up and held it to her ear.

"Mrs. Bennet?" she said. "What has happened? Oh, I see. Explain everything, Betsy."

I stiffened and then hurriedly joined the children in the sitting room. We waited Mum's arrival for a few minutes or so, and then she joined us, her shoulders sagging.

"That was the Bennett's servant, Betsy." She said. "Thomas Bennet is dead."

"How awful!" cried Susan, stealing a glance at me. Lucy put her tiny hand on me knee. "Peter," she said softly, "You don't look surprised."

"Lucy," started Mum.

"It's alright," I said quickly. I rubbed Lucy's head affectionately. "I found out a bit ago. Earlier this morning."

Mum glanced at me, realizing why I had gone upstairs. She nodded at me carefully and said, "But that's not all the news I have."

We all looked at her. Her face looked drawn and strange.

"They are sending all the children away. To the country. It isn't safe in London anymore and they have strictly ordered everyone under age of eighteen to leave."

This brought shock to all of us. Leaving our home had never occurred to us.

"I can't just leave," I protested. "Who will take care of you?"

"I can quite take care of myself," Mother grinned. "But someone needs to look after the younger children."

My mind scrambled for an answer. What would Dad have done? Stay with his wife, or gone to protect the children? I was at a loss.

"I can't go," I said, my voice faltering.

"You have to," mother said strongly, standing. "It's an order, Peter. Like a law. We can't break it. Now—upstairs, all of you. Pack a bag each."

"Where are we going?" asked Edmund quickly, in a panicked voice. "Is it very far?"

"You will stay with a kindly old gentleman named Professor Kirke," explained Mum. "He taught me and your father in a philosophy and book reading club. Great man. Lovely house. You'll love it."

"I doubt it," said Edmund, walking grudgingly upstairs. "I'm packing now."

I followed them behind, then someone took my hand. Mother stood by the banister, rubbing my hand gently.

"Peter," she said, "I am so sorry about Thomas."

I smiled at her, then continued upstairs. I knew I had to go to the country, especially if it were some sort of order. But I hated leaving Mother. But I knew Dad would say, "Bear the things you know cannot be changed. Make the best from what you have and must do. And try to smile, for heaven's sake."

At the thought of his wise advice, I couldn't help to smile.

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	6. Evacuating London

**Chapter 6, Evacuating London**

The cab arrived at the train station all too quickly. Mum paid the driver, then led us dolefully inside.

It was indeed a frightening thing to behold. The train station was literally stuffed with thousands…_thousands…_of other children just like us. I had expected crowded, of course, but not chaotic heartbreak. Everywhere I turned, crying little ones were hugging their mothers goodbye and older ones were trying to look brave—and not succeeding.

Some sort of station worker, a stewardess of sorts, came by and handed to Mother four different labels. Each one was filled out, checked over in turn, then pinned to our jackets.

Mother finally pasted a smile on that was holding back her tears. "Are you warm enough?" she asked Lucy, who nodded tearfully in reply. She hugged her and stood. She pulled Edmund into her arms, attempting to kiss him. He shrugged away from her. The little…beast! How could he deny her a kiss before we left for how knows long? What if the house were to be bombed? Mum's face fell and she consented to a tiny peck on his head.

Mother then hugged poor Susan, who wasn't very good at holding back her quiet tears. Then she came to me. I hadn't realized how tall I'd grown, I nearly—possibly—passed her up.

"Promise me you'll look after the others?" she whispered to me desperately.

"I will Mum. I promise."

She pulled back and looked at me proudly. "Good man," she said. I remembered Dad saying those same words. I hoped I wouldn't fail them.

Before I knew it, we were ushered away into a line that awaited to board the train. Lucy turned towards me and buried her face in my jacket.

"Lucy, it's all right," I said, tugging her along. "It's okay. Everything will be fine."

In my hand I clutched our tickets as we came to a stop for a moment. Just then, I noticed a group of soldiers coming down a flight of stairs. At first, my heart leapt in my throat, wondering if Dad was among them. Then I realized they were all too young. My age. I vaguely wondered what I was doing here. Shouldn't I be fighting for my country? Shouldn't I be with _them? _

Susan broke my thoughts, saying sharply, "Peter!" and pulling the tickets from me. She smile apologetically at the ticket master, who waved us on board, saying, "Off you go!" much too cheerfully.

Susan tried to help Edmund aboard.

"I know how to get on a train," he snapped.

I followed them up the steps and then the door shut behind us. Susan slid the window open, where we crowded around to try and glimpse mother from the opening one last time. We spotted her and began to wave, crying, "Bye!"

"Bye bye dear!" mouthed Mum, waving from the platform.

The train creaked, then chugged its way slowly forward. Silently, other than the groaing and droning of the train, I ushered my family into our tiny cabin with two seats on either side and shelves above. Two other children, a small girl and boy, glanced at us sadly before resuming their stare at the floor.

I helped Lucy place her bag on the shelf, then I reached for Edmund's. Edmund shot a glare at me, jerked the suitcase away, and put it up himself. I sighed and sat down.

For a long while, two hours or so to be exact, the train roamed into the heart of the country and took us farther and farther from London. The two other children with us were dropped off, then taken by two different people. Lucy bit her lip, afraid that we may be separated as well. Edmund stayed by the window, staring sullenly. I wondered what kind of thoughts ranged in that head of his.

After ages of the depressing, stuffy silence (save the whistles and motors of the train) we finally came to a stop.

The four of us moved out and dismounted the train, finding ourselves in an abandoned platform that didn't even have a station master, depot, or ticket booth. The train screeched, started up again, and chugged over the hill. With one last puff of steam, it disappeared.

And finally, we were truly alone. And there wasn't a sound but birds and breezes.


	7. Macready and the Professor

**darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you for reviewing! Here's the next chapter.

**Capegio: **I think I cried then too! Thank-you, but I think my observations were a little off I'm afraid---the "goodbye" dialogues weren't as close to the movie. But oh well.

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**Author's Note: **This chapter combines movie dialogue and dialogue from the book. Several actions are book-based as well.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own what C.S.Lewis did, I'm just borrowing it.

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****Chapter Seven, Mrs. Macready and the Professor**

The lonesome sounds were broken by the sounds of an automobile motor. Lucy ran out eagerly to meet it, but it passed her by with a rude honk. We followed her down and stood by her, staring after it. Perhaps someone forgot us.

"The Professor knew we were coming," interjected Susan.

"Perhaps we've been incorrectly labeled," added Edmund. He would think that Mum messed the labels up, wouldn't he?

Just then, we heard the clatter of hooves and wheels and the sound of a voice. A tiny wagon, more like a cart, moved up over the hill and pulled to a halt in front of us.

"Mrs…Macready?" I asked hesitantly.

"I'm afraid so," she replied shortly.

Lucy turned and glanced at me with wide eyes.

"Is this it then?" Mrs. Macready continued. "Haven't you brought anything else?"

"No, Ma'am," I said, "It's just us."

"Small favors," she stated, curtly nodding for us to get in. We clambered aboard and she chirruped to the horse, and so we set off the direction we had come.

For a half hour or so, we rode along feeling sore and tired. After eight miles or so, we passed a post office.

"At least we shall be able to write Mum," Susan whispered to me.

"Can we stop and see if there is a letter from Dad?" asked Edmund loudly.

"No." Mrs. Macready said without explanation. Edmund glared at her back for another two miles. Then we reached the Professor's house.

The mansion was huge. It seemed foreboding and rather dark, but huge nevertheless. I began to feel a bit of excitement and adventure stirring—this wasn't going to be so bad. We could explore and play all kinds of games together. Edmund would be far away from his friends at school. Susan could be as athletic as ever. Lucy could pretend and play princess all she wanted. And I could watch over them all, just like Dad would have wanted.

By now, we were up the steps and into a fantastic hall. I hadn't quite realized that Mrs. Macready was listing the rules, but when my thoughts were pulled back to earth, she gave short shriek to Susan and said in her accent, "And NO touchin' the historical artifacts!" Susan jerked her hand back from a statue. Me and Edmund shared a smile and held in laughter. Lucy looked a little frightened.

Then the professor came out to meet us. He was tall and had white shaggy hair. He seemed the sort to write fairy-stories and philosophies. Maybe a bit eccentric, very odd, but he greeted us with kindness and a no-nonsense attitude. Edmund wanted to laugh at his appearance but kept on blowing his nose instead, though it was perfectly obvious. I hoped the Professor didn't feel hurt.

"You've met Mrs. Macready," said the Professor, winking at us. "And there are the servants, Margaret, Ivy, and Betty—but I daresay they are quite shy and won't talk to you a bit—and I'll see to it your supper is delivered to you tonight. But save tonight, you shall eat your meals with this old man, I'm afraid. But the house is yours while you are here; all I ask you is to be careful with my things. My wing is to be kept quiet, but there are acres of room outside for your louder games. I hope you will enjoy your stay?"

"I think we will," said Susan, looking delighted.

"Good night then," said the Professor, walking away.

Mrs. Macready showed us where Edmund and I would be sleeping, and connected by a parlor in the middle, the girl's room on the other side.

As soon as Macready left us, I shut the door and looked at my family with excitement. "We've fallen on our feet and no mistake!" I said. "This is going to be wonderful. That Professor is lenient and kind as he is funny and stern."

"I think he's an old dear," said Susan.

"Oh, come OFF it!" shouted Edmund. He had dark rings under his eyes, which meant he was tired. Of course, he pretended he wasn't tired, and that always made him more rude than usual.

"Go to bed," said Susan shortly. Even Susan lost her patience with him sometimes.

"Yes MUM," Edmund said sarcastically.

"Ed!" I stopped him.

Lucy added carefully, "Shouldn't we all be in bed?" and with that, she turned and walked into her bedroom. A few minutes later, she called, "The sheets are scratchy!"

Susan and I glanced at each other and went inside the girl's room.

"Wars don't last forever," said Susan comfortingly. "We'll be home soon."

"If home is still there," jeered Edmund. "I think this house is haunted."

Lucy stiffened when a bird call sounded outside the window. "What was that?" she asked.

"An owl," I said, shooting a glare at Edmund. "You've seen this place, Lucy. It's huge. We can do whatever we want. There are acres of woods and fields. We can see all kinds of animals, too."

"We'll go exploring," said Edmund, more to himself than to the comfort of Lucy.

"Tomorrow, then," said Susan. "So let's all get to bed."


	8. A Perilous Game of Exploration

**GucciGoddess:** Thanks for reviewing! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you for your review. Yes, I'm afraid Edmund is going to drive you insane with this chapter.

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**A/N: **Finally, Lucy has gotten to Narnia. By chapter ten, dear Peter will get there as well.

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****Chapter Eight, A perilous Game of Exploration**

The next day there was a steady rain falling. It wasn't a very hard storm, but one of those showers that soaked anyone who ventured into it.

"It would rain, wouldn't it?" sighed Edmund, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"We're not really so bad off," said Susan patiently. "There's a wireless and lots of books."

"Incredibly boring," Edmund said, slumping into a chair. Susan attempted to look like she was enjoying the book she was reading, but it was all about medical philosophies and such, and she was always bad liar. Edmund rolled his eyes at her.

Lucy tried to piece a puzzle together and found it much too hard. She sighed and looked up at me with big eyes. Of course, Dad would have found something to entertain them—something that made them move, think—anything!

I stood and surveyed my family. "As for me," I said, winking. "I'm going to explore the house."

Everyone jumped to their feet at this idea and followed me out. For the next two hours we explored every nook and cranny of the house (careful to be quiet in the Professor's wing, of course) while finding many rooms we never knew existed. It was one of those house you never really seem to come to an end of. There were spare rooms, long halls, endless stairs, gaping windows and doors, turrets, cellars, cupboards, tunnels, and anything else you'd expect to find in a sort of castle. Edmund, I'm sure, hoped to find dungeons or something, but thankfully he was disappointed.

"What's in here?" said Susan, leading the way into a green room. It was long and full of books, and a large suit of armor stood near some stain-glass windows. A globe stood on a stand, papers littered the desk, and plants grew in pots in the corners.

"This is by far my favorite room," said Susan.

We all agreed to this and moved on. We looked into two more rooms, both of which were empty (save a fireplace in the first and a wardrobe in the last) before moving out into the hall.

"I daresay we've covered the whole house," I said, looking at a painting on the wall. Just then, we all heard Lucy shout from the spare room we had just exited.

"It's alright," she called. "I've come back!"

We all looked at each other as Lucy burst from the room, panting. "It's alright everyone, I've come back."

"Back? What are you talking about?" asked Susan.

"Weren't you all wondering where I was?" asked Lucy, just as confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lucy!" I laughed, giving her a grin. "Poor Lu. Hiding and no one noticed. You'll have to hide a bit longer for us to start looking for you."

"But I've been gone for hours," said Lucy, near tears. "There's a wood in the Wardrobe, and a faun, and we had tea—come and see for yourselves!"

Susan and I didn't hide the shock on our faces as she led us into the spare room again and threw open the wardrobe door.

Susan stepped carefully inside and felt the back. "Lucy, the only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe."

"You really had us," I laughed, "I half believed you. That was a good hoax."

"It's not a hoax, it's real," protested Lucy, staring up at us.

"That's enough, Lucy," said Susan gently, "You've had your joke. It's best to give it up."

"Well, I believe you!" said Edmund.

"You do?" asked Lucy dubiously.

"Of course," Edmund grinned, "Didn't I tell you about the football field in the bathroom cupboard?"

Lucy began to cry now.

"Will you just stop?" I whirled on Edmund. "You just have to make everything worse, don't you?"

Edmund recoiled. "It was just a joke!"

"When are you going to learn to grow up?" I argued.

Suddenly Edmund leaped forward, shouting, "SHUT UP!" He shoved his face into mine, finishing, "You think you're Dad, but you're NOT!" with that, he stormed out of the room.

I stepped back and felt like my insides were draining. Edmund was right. I wasn't Dad. But I had to take care of my family like he does…but now it seems I'm failing with that, too.

"That was nicely handled," said Susan, glaring at me, then turning and following Edmund.

"But it really was there," Lucy whispered, breaking the silence.

"Susan's right, Lucy," I managed to tell her firmly. "That's enough."

I left her alone and went to our room, sitting on the bed and folding my hands. So I was failing trying to act like a father. Why didn't I just act like an older brother? Well…an older brother can't be there for them all the time, an older brother is more…insufficient. I wish Edmund could just understand that.

Just then, the sun came out and lit the room. I smiled a little. At least with the sun out, we could all go outside. Lucy would forget her dream, Edmund could let off some steam, and Susan could be as sporty as usual. Sometimes its just best to forget the past.

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Read and Review perty please? 


	9. Swimming

**Capegio: **Thank-you for your ever-faithful reviews. Sorry this one took a little longer. Here is your wish! I will have two chapters or so about their summer activities listed in the book, then they will all get to Narnia.

**Darkdestiny2000: **Thanks for the review! Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a little longer.

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**Chapter Nine, Swimming**

Spring was officially over. More recently we had suffered from light showers ever since school closed for the holidays, just before the bombings began. Finally, the sun came out—and stayed out.

"At least it has stopped raining," said Susan, leading the way into the sunshine surrounding the Professors property.

"It's more than stopped raining," I said cheerfully. "Summer is officially _here. _I say we all go swimming."

Lucy and Edmund ran ahead to try and get in before us.

"Race you!" I called to Susan, dashing forward. We all ran to the end of the dock and jumped in, clothes and all.

"Won't Mrs. Macready be terribly upset?" asked Lucy, holding her skirt out of the shallow water. I surfaced and spluttered water, grinning at her. "Even if she is," I said, stroking towards her, "She can punish me however she wants. We used to do this with Dad, anyhow."

Lucy looked satisfied and plopped down in the water—skirt, shirt, shoes, and all. Edmund swam towards her and grabbed her ankle, trying to pull her off the rock she was comfortingly sitting.

"Ed!" gasped Lucy, giggling wildly. "Ed, stop!" Lucy thought he was only playing. But I knew better.

"Cut it out, Edmund," I said, "Or do I have to dunk you?"

Edmund dropped her foot and stared at me, wondering if I were angry or teasing. I swam towards him, trying to keep an evil smile off my face. Edmund guessed what I was going to do and almost smiled. He then turned quickly and swam for the opposite end of the pond.

Susan appeared next to Lucy. "Come on, Lucy," she said. "Surely you haven't forgotten how to swim?"

"No. I like sitting here better," said Lucy, avoiding eye contact. I joined Susan.

"Come on, Lucy," I coaxed. "You'll catch your death if you do nothing. You should swim and keep yourself warm."

"Fine." Lucy looked almost angry with me. "I'll swim. But I cannot properly enjoy it."

"Why ever not?" asked Susan, confused.

"Because none of you believe me, that's why!" Lucy jumped into the water and paddled away.

I leaned over to Susan, whispering, "Is she…still talking about that wood she thinks was in that old wardrobe?"

"I'm afraid she is," Susan sighed. "Hopefully she'll forget it."

"Where's Edmund?" I suddenly realized I didn't see him. Or hear him.

Susan whirled around, scanning the pond worriedly. "Edmund?"

"Edmund," I said again, swimming towards the other end where we had seen him last. "Edmund, where are you?"

Susan passed me—still a stronger swimmer than I could ever be—and dived under. I took a breath and followed, scanning the murky bottom. Mud and plants littered the rocky bottom, nearly eight feet down. My lungs began to burn and I surfaced, bumping into the floating body of Edmund.

"Edmund!" I cried, dragging him towards the shallow area. He lay still, his eyes closed and face white. I finally rested him on the rock where Lucy had been sitting and shook his shoulders. "Edmund! Edmund!"

Susan swam to my left, asking, "Peter, is he breathing? Check if he's breathing."

Idiot! Of course she was right. I placed my hand over his open mouth. I could feel hot breath emitting.

"He's breathing," I said.

"He's breathing." Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Peter, he's _breathing._"

I realized what she meant. So he hadn't drowned. Then what happened?

Edmund's eyes suddenly popped open and he let out a loud laugh.

Startled, both Susan and I fell backwards into the water. "What were you DOING?" I shouted.

"Fooled you!" Edmund jumped to his feet and ran towards the deeper end. "That was hilarious! You thought I was drowned! Sheesh." He began to jump into the deep again, but I thrust myself forward and grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Not a chance." I pulled him back. "nice try."

"Hey!" said Edmund. I dragged him out of the water and onto the shore, and pushed him to the ground.

"You are going to stay there," I said sternly. "No more swimming for you."

"But why? It was only a joke!"

"Bad form, Edmund!" I said. "Don't you get it? You pretended you were dead. That isn't funny. You can't scare us like that!"

"It was only a bit of fun!"

"Not fun at all, Ed. If it had been Dad that grabbed you and thought you weren't breathing, do you think he would LAUGH?"

Edmund hesitated, then said firmly, "Yes!"

"Liar!" I shot back, "And Dad would know it, too! I have half a mind to write Mother about this. Lucky for you I won't."

"I was just pretending," said Edmund stubbornly.

"Pretending something is real, when it isn't, especially if it could harm something, isn't the right kind of pretending."

"Lucy pretends she's found another world!" Edmund replied. "That is plently harmful!"

"Well, either there is something wrong with Lucy or she has turned into the most dreadful liar—like you," I let the last part take its sting. "But if she doesn't give it up soon, I WILL write to Mum. Which is what will happen to you if you don't stop acting like a spoiled child who has nothing better to do than to make someone else's life miserable and frighten people half to death. Dad thought you were awful smart, Ed, even though you've never showed the intelligence for better thinking. I think he'd be disappointed." I slowed, realizing I had probably gone too far. "I know I am."

Edmund stared at the ground, bringing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, and set his chin on his knees. He fell silent.

"I'm sorry Edmund," I knelt next to him. "I shouldn't have said that."

No answer.

"Just think about that," I said, finally leaving him.

Afterwards, Susan, Lucy, and I swam in an uncomfortable quietness, while Edmund pulled clumps of grass from the ground over and over.

When we finally went indoors, Ed was still quiet. But this time, it wasn't a quiet sadness. It was a very…hostile silence. By the end of the day, I realized nothing hit home. It had only made things worse.

He may have disliked me before…but now he hated me. I could feel every burning glare boring holes into my back.

And I didn't know how to stop it.

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read and review por favor! 


	10. Edmund Causes Trouble

**darkdesiny2000: **Thank-you for the review...and the dance! That makes me feel special, lol. I hope you like this chapter, it takes a circumstancefrom the movie and places in a more likely place, if it were in the book. By the next chapter, Edmund will be in BIG trouble for provoking Lucy--and entering Narnia but pretending he hadn't.

**elektrum: **Thank-you! I am so glad you are enjoyingthis story. I hope you like this chapter! You'll find some familier incidents from the movie, but I am trying to stay true to the book while taking alot of dialogue from the movie. You'll find that in the NEXT chapter, things will be a tiny bit closer to the movie. Thanks for the reviewing!

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Chapter 10, Edmund Causes Trouble**

Over the next week or so since the swimming incident, Edmund ignored the rest of us. In fact, so did Lucy. Lucy was upset and thought we were all very cruel for not believing her about the wardrobe nonsense—so she joined in our games, but she never spoke beyond civil politeness. Edmund kept up a boiling rage inside, and I knew it was going to burst sooner or later.

Susan and I tried to keep things rolling as to not provoke a fight. We took them swimming every day and taught them how to climb trees carefully.

Edmund still teased Lucy dreadfully. He never did it when I was around, of course, or within earshot—but I could always tell. I'd return from the tops of the tree or the center of the pond, and I'd find Lucy red-faced and Edmund grinning. They wouldn't say a word. Lucy was no tattle tale, and Edmund would never own to it.

I'd walk them down to the post office about once a day, each of us writing a letter to mother personally. The Professor left us a whole box of stamps so that we could write her as often as we pleased. "No need to shut you away from the world while you are here with me," he had told us with a twinkling eye.

Of course, Edmund really almost provoked the Professor to write his OWN letter the day he broke the window.

I took the pitch, joking around, and Edmund released a bit of that anger in his batting stroke, sending the ball through the air and straight through a pretty stained glass window. The sound of breaking glass made us all freeze in our steps—though I must say Lucy looked more delighted than she had been since the Professor bought us some chocolate.

We went inside to investigate and found that Edmund had sent it right into the green room with the suit of armor. Right away, I grasped Edmund by the arm and pulled him towards the Professors study.

I knocked, my knees quaking. I hated upsetting people. He'd write to Mum. Being the oldest, I'd take the blame…Dad would hear of it. I'd disappoint him. I'd fail him.

"Come in!" said the Professor cheerfully.

Edmund and I must have looked quite a sight, standing in the study—unexpected and uninvited—and dressed in our summer wear that was getting worn and dirty.

"Why, I'm indeed surprised," Professor Kirk looked at the way I held Edmund's arm. "This is indeed a pleasure. What brings you here to visit me?"

"We broke your window," I blurted. "We are indeed sorry. We were playing Cricket. It was purely accidental."

"How is it that both of you broke my window?" asked the Professor.

I stopped. We did look rather funny, pretending both of us did it. "I did, sir." I said. I braced myself for a proper scolding.

"Which window?"

"The stained glass one, sir. In the green room with the suit of armor."

"Gracious!" cried the Professor, motioning us to follow him. He went straight to the scene of the crime, where Lucy and Susan were busy trying to pick up the bits of glass.

"My dears," he said, "Please don't touch the glass. Dangerous, I should say. And in the way, as usual."

Lucy and Susan looked confused.

"My dears," this time the Professor addressed all of us. "I'd am dreadfully sorry. This is my fault."

I began to protest, but he cut me off.

"No, do not argue," he continued. "Often enough I told you to play games outdoors, and now look what has happened. My instructions led you to break Mrs. Macready's favourite window. She will be most upset, but I should tell her it was all my idea."

We stood silent. He was queer, for sure, but what could we say?

"But this is wonderful!" the Professor soon began to chuckle. "I hate these ghastly windows. Notice the burgundy and yellow colors? Does not match the green at all, no, not at all. A great favor, indeed. Now the Macready must agree to replace them. Jolly good."

"All the same," I said, "Shouldn't we help replace them?"

"Yes, we must," added Susan, "It's only proper."

"Of course not," said the Professor. "Have you no thought of my pride? I am master of my own house; I should be in charge of all its expenses. No, my dear, it is a kind offer—but quite useless, you see, quite useless. If I cannot replace a window, I cannot be expected to accomplish anything, now, can I?"

Lucy began to laugh before she was elbowed by Susan.

"I suppose not, sir," said Susan. "Though we feel dreadfully sorry for the inconvenience…"

"It is quite alright," said the Professor, "Quite alright! Leave me now, in peace, if you please—I must pick new window colors. How perfectly splendid, I do love decoration. The Macready will be Mad! Oh, how I love the housekeeper. Go on," he noticed us again. "Shoo now. There's plenty of daylight left. I'll see to the cleaning."

I hustled my family out of the room and into our rooms. Susan shut the door and leaned against it, her eyes bright and a crooked smile on her face.

"The old chap is perfectly mad and splendid!" she said. "You jolly well got out of that one, Ed!"

"Oh, shut up." Ed frowned and sat on the floor. "I could have stood a paddling, if Mr. Noble hadn't been so chivalrous and taken the blame. And now the Man is queer in the head. Whoever gets happy about a broken window?"

"You're just ungrateful," said Susan tartly, sitting on the couch. I sat next to her, and Lucy went to the window seat, staring glumly. She hardly now spoke a word to us. Where had her mind gone? What would Mum think of her behaviour?

Just then, a roll of thunder sounded.

"It's raining," said Lucy in a gloomy voice.

And she was right! Within a few moments, it was pouring a dreadful shower outside. We sat for nearly a half hour trying to think of something to do.

"Perhaps we can explore the house again," Lucy tried, a strange glint in her eyes.

"No!" said Susan and I at the same time. Edmund slumped to the floor and put his head under a chair, scratching something into the bottom. What kind of devilry was he doing under there?

"I'll invent a game," Susan stood resolutely. She walked to shelf, pulled a thick book from inside, and plopped down again.

"Phalanges," she said.

"What is this?" I chuckled.

"I give you the word, you give the definition," she said, smiling.

"Finger bones," I replied. She nodded and flipped a few pages over.

"Gastrovascular," she said. I fell silent. "Come on, Peter, Gastrovascular."

"Is it Latin?" I said in a now tired voice. This could get boring very, very fast.

"Yes," she answered.

"Is it Latin for 'Worst Game Ever Invented'?" said Edmund, grinning.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. It really was funny. Even Ed has his moments.

Susan slammed the book shut, her eyes telling us not to provoke her.

"We could play hide and seek," said Lucy, coming to me and placing her tiny hands on my arm.

"But we're already having so much fun," I turned and said slowly to Susan. She frowned.

"Please?" Lucy begged, pulling my arm. "Come on Peter, please…? Pretty please?"

"One," I said, smiling, happy to see her finally getting into things. "Two, three, four--"

"What?" Edmund said in disbelief. Nevertheless, he jumped to his feet and followed Lucy out of the room. Susan switched on the radio, which began to play the Andrew's Sisters, the American singers.

_"Oh, Johnny, oh Johnny!" _the voices sang, as I leaned against the door with my eyes shut and continued to count.

Lucy had finally forgotten the whole wardrobe thing. She was finally playing with us. The Professor wasn't mad at us; Father wasn't going to be disappointed in me. Though it was raining, we managed to keep busy. Things were definitely looking up! I had a strange feeling that things were going to be all right, after all…

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**I doth command THEE to REVIEWITH my manuscript. Or I should challenge Ye to a duel, savvy? Thee knows better than to mess with Pippin Baggins.**


	11. Lucy Lies Again

**darkdestiny2000: **You may feel a little sympathetic for Ed in this chapter--he's feeling the effects of the Witch's Food! I hope you like this chapter.

**elektrum: **Spare me! hides under desk I was bluffing! I don't do well with duels! Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter Eleven, Lucy Lies Again**

When I finished counting to a hundred, I went out into the hall where everyone had fled. I was fully prepared to sneak around and find every one of them, but buried troubles always tend to surface again.

"Peter, Peter!" cried Lucy, running down the hall. "It's all true! There IS a wood in the wardrobe, and a faun, its all there like I told you!"

"Not again," I whispered to myself. Edmund followed Lucy out of another hall entrance, looking a slightly green colour as if he was going to be sick.

"Does this mean I win?" called Susan, emerging from a trunk.

"I don't think Lucy wants to play any more," I said tiredly.

"I'm not pretending," continued Lucy, to excited to really take any notice of us. "I saw Mr. Tumnus again—and this time, Edmund went too!"

I wasn't prepared for her to drag Edmund in all this. He was the last person she'd try to play and have fun with.

"You've seen the faun?" I asked in disbelief.

"Well," Lucy tried, "He actually didn't go _there_ with me." She turned to Edmund in genuine confusion. "What were you doing, Edmund?"

Edmund smiled nastily. "Oh, I was just pretending with Lucy," he scoffed, "Like the whole business about the wardrobe was real. I shouldn't have encouraged her, I know, but these little kids just don't know when to stop pretending."

Lucy's face twisted into a very sad face that I only saw once in a great while. She fled from the room, sobbing loudly.

"There she goes again," said Edmund, as if he were much older and superior.

"Look here!" I shouted, stepping towards him. "You've been perfectly beastly to Lu ever since she began all this nonsense! You've been absolutely horrible to her. You did it simply out of spite!"

"She's just a little," began Edmund.

"Don't even start," I interrupted. "How much good to you think you are doing by nagging at her one moment, then encouraging her the next? What kind of person are you, anyways?"

"I thought--" started Edmund.

"You didn't think at all," I replied, cutting him off. "You never think of anyone but yourself. You've always been meaner to those younger than you ever since you went to that nasty boarding school. You don't care about any one else's feelings!"

"Stop!" cried Susan, grabbing my shoulder and pushing me back. "It won't do us any good if we have a row between you two! We need to find Lucy."

"Not yet we don't," I said, grabbing Edmund's arm. I pulled him into our room and shoved him onto the bed.

"Ow!" he responded.

I sincerely hoped I didn't really hurt him. "Stay there," I snapped, leaving him. I joined Susan in the hall and we went after Lucy.

After a few moments, we finally found her out in the heather field, leaning with her back against an oak tree. I knelt next to her, whispering to her tear-streaked face, "Lu? Come on, dear, talk to us."

Lucy turned her red face toward us, yelling angrily, "I don't care what you think! You can write to Mum, or talk to the Professor, or lock me up. I wish I had stayed in Narnia with the faun. He's much nicer than all of you! You're all beasts!" and with that, she jumped to her feet and took off running.

I staggered back, really surprised. Lucy never called names. She was always so sweet tempered. "Lucy!" I called. "Lucy, come back!"

"We can't do any more," said Susan. "She won't listen."

"It's getting beyond us," I said. "We need to talk to the Professor."

"Tonight," agreed Susan, "Right after supper."

We walked to the house together and parted in the hall. I went into the bedroom and found Edmund still on the bed, curled up on his side and holding his stomach.

"Ed?" I said softly.

"What?" he shouted, glaring up at me.

I sat next to him on the bed. "Didn't you understand anything I said?"

"I'm not daft."

"I know. But must you be really so cruel to Lucy? She's so young and venerable."

"I don't know," said Edmund, closing his eyes. He coughed.

"Are you okay?" I said, leaning forward. His face was still a pale, sickly hue.

Ed shifted and turned his back to me. "I don't feel well, leave me alone."

"Did you have too much at breakfast?" I asked, but with no answer. "Come on, Ed! Talk to me!"

Edmund rolled his eyes. "My stomach hurts, okay? Now leave me alone, or we'll have a row that'd make Susan faint. Go away!"

"Ed--"

He threw a pillow at me. I stood and watched him a moment but he didn't retract any statement. Concluding he only felt emotionally sick, I decided to leave him alone.

Susan and I couldn't wait till after supper. We needed to meet with the Professor now.

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	12. Professor Kirke

**Darkdestiny2000: **So glad you liked the chapter. After this chapter, our hero will finally get to Narnia! Thank-you for the faithful reviews.

**Reepicheepet: **Wow, love the penname. Thank-you for your reviews! I'm so glad your enjoying this story so much! Alrighty, in answer to your questions; 1) I love chocolate too. 2) I learned alot about war by watching alot of old movies. I grew up with this-- my Grandpa loves war serials, my Dad is obsessed with the story of D-Day, my brother is following his footsteps. 3) The whole "doeth" thing comes a little naturally. Try reading a few Jane Austen novels for the English, watch the old "Ten Commandments" movie and pay close attention to the God speech at the burning bush! lol. 4) yes, you are right, chapter seven is very boring. You'll find this one...um...hopefully not as boring. lol. Thank-you so much for the reviews, hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter Twelve, Professor Kirke**

I found Susan and tugged on her arm. "Susan, we can't wait."

"I was just thinking that," she agreed, following me. We made our way down the hall, up some stairs, past another hall—and finally arrived at the Professors study.

I knocked.

"Come in," said the Professor. We went in.

"Why children," he said, again surprised. "Come in, come in. Let me get these chairs for you—now. I'm quite at your disposal."

Susan and I sat down and took deep breaths.

"It's our sister," she said. "Lucy, sir. She's very upset."

"The crying one," added the Professor.

"Yes sir. She thinks she has found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe."

The Professors mood changed instantly. Rather than looking like an affectionate godfather who was listening carefully to our troubles, he looked intrigued like a detective who stumbled upon his most important clue.

"What did you say?" he gasped, leaning forward.

"The wardrobe in the spare room," I explained again, "Lucy thinks she has found a wood and a faun inside."

"She won't stop going on with it," added Susan.

"What was it like?" asked the Professor excitedly.

"Like talking to a lunatic," replied Susan.

"No…not your sister, the forest."

Susan and I glanced at each other. "You aren't saying you believe her?" I said in disbelief.

"And you don't?" said the Professor, glancing at me long under his eyebrows. His eyes were piercing and it seemed he was trying to get across some point.

"Logically it's impossible," said Susan with the same pointed look.

"Edmund said they were only pretending," I added.

"And he's the more truthful," concluded the Professor.

"Well…no, Lucy would be. But about all this wardrobe nonsense--"

"What have you been taught at these schools?" cried the Professor. "If you try it logically, my dear," he directed this to Susan, "Then there are only three possibilities. First, Lucy is lying, which we have determined that she is not a liar. Second, she is going Mad, and anyone who looks at her can tell she is not Mad. Thirdly, she is telling the truth. So until further evidence turns up, we must assume she is telling the truth."

"But," I started.

"She's your sister," said the Professor. "You ought to think better of her—give her the benefit of the doubt, you see. You are her family. It's time you try to act like one." He puffed his pipe and looked down, and not another word was said.

"Thank-you sir," said Susan hesitantly, standing. I followed her out of the room and we paused inside the entry.

"This is awful," whispered Susan. "What can we do?"

"I don't want to worry Mum and write about this," I said.

"Same here," replied Susan.

"What should we do?" I sighed, leaning against the wall. "the Professor believes her, its as plain as that. Do you really think there could be--"

"No," said Susan quickly. "It's impossible. We mustn't lose our heads, too."

Just then, we heard voices in the passage. Mrs. Macready came up the stairs, followed by one of the other servants, and a large group of men and women. They all looked cruel and annoyed and scholarly.

"I need you children to be out of the way," she said to Susan and I. "I'm taking a party over the house, and I don't need you to be in the house at all."

"Yes'm!" I said, running out followed by my sister.

We joined Lucy, walking solemnly up the stairs. "Come on Lu," I said, "The Macready is coming." We ran into the room and found Edmund, sitting forlornly on the couch. "Come on, Ed," I called, "The Macready is taking a party over the house."

Edmund jumped to his feet and followed us from the room. We heard the front door bang, and many voices carried up the stairs. We fled that side and moved towards the west wing, but then we heard steps on the stairs in front.

We turned and went into the hall, then heard the steps and voices to our right. We were driven left and moved up the passage, giggling and avoiding the Macready and gang.

It seemed like they were everywhere! We ran right and left, avoiding the sounds of their approach. They always managed to get ahead of us, it seemed almost strange and unnatural—but I took no notice. It seemed like some evil magic was against us, working us towards the spare room.

"Come on," cried Edmund, flinging open a door. There stood the Wardrobe, silent and foreboding, the cause of all our troubles.

"You've got to be joking!" muttered Susan.

The knob behind us was jiggled, and footsteps sounded just outside. I grabbed Lucy and we bunched ourselves inside the Wardrobe, careful not to shut ourselves inside.

I peered around the edge of the door. The knob began to turn. I backed up, then realized that probably wasn't the best thing I could have done...

Then it was chaos! We tripped and stepped on each other, being pushed farther and farther back inside.

"Get back," shouted Susan.

"My toe!" gasped Lucy.

"I'm not on your stupid toes, move back!" shouted Edmund, pushing her. He lost his balance and fell into me.

"Will you stop shoving!" I yelled.

I tripped over Edmunds foot, fell over Lucy, knocked Susan to the ground. We sat there, stunned.

Suddenly shocked by a sudden coldness and bright sunlight over my head, I glanced up.

What the…?

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**Ooh, cliffhanger. He he. Read and Review please!**

**of course, you all know what happens. ;-)**


	13. Exploring the Land

**To all my faithful reviewers: **I know! This is moment we've been waiting for! Here it is. Pray I do it justice, lol.

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**Chapter 13, Exploring the Land**

I gasped and shot to my feet, twisting around and brushing a tree branch out of the way. No. It couldn't be.

I opened my mouth, and no sound came out. What could I say? There was a wood behind the wall leading to…the Professor's back yard—where it was currently January—and the rest of England was enjoying June. Completely…

"Impossible," Susan completed my thought. She beheld the dazzling whiteness, looking delighted. I followed her gaze and took in every detail. It was no hallucination. It wasn't a dream. It was real.

"Don't worry," said Lucy smugly. "I'm sure it's just your imagination."

"You're a hero, Lu," I said warmly. "That's the closest you could come to saying 'I told you so'. I guess…if we said sorry, it wouldn't quite cut it, will it?"

"No." Lucy said shortly.

I frowned. I suppose I'd have to earn her trust again...

"But this might," she laughed gleefully, flinging a snowball at my head. It broke against my forehead. I gasped in surprise and laughed, gathering snow and tossing it back. Susan joined in. Soon we were tossing snowballs back and forth, enjoying the magic of the winter land. I laughed and chucked a ball at Susan, who ducked to avoid being hit. The snowball struck another target—a very sour faced, angry looking Edmund. "Ow, stop it!" he snapped.

The magic popped like a bubble. The sparkle seemed to dim.

Edmund had lied. He _had_ been here with Lucy. He had let her down.

"You…little…liar!" I exclaimed.

"You didn't believe her either," protested Edmund.

"Say you're sorry," I said threateningly, stepping up to him.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" Edmund said quickly, looking eager to get it over with. If only I could make him say it—and mean it, too.

"It's alright," Lucy said forgivingly. "Some little children don't know when to stop pretending."

"Very funny!" muttered Edmund.

"Maybe we should go back," said Susan after a moment. "It's awfully cold." She rubbed her upper arms and shivered.

"Shouldn't we at least take a look around?" said Edmund.

Like we would do what he wanted after he did to Lucy. That's ridiculous.

"I think," I turned away from him. "Lucy should decide."

"I'd like you all to meet Mr. Tumnus," Lucy said without a moment's thought.

"Mr. Tumnus it is," I said, pushing through the branches and grabbing a few coats.

"We can't go hiking in our summer clothes," said Susan, looking disgusted at the thought.

"No, but the Professor wouldn't mind if we used these," I said, handing a coat to Lucy. "Besides," I continued, "If you think about it _logically--" _I used Susan's favourite word, receiving a glare. "We're not even taking them out of the wardrobe." I handed the last one to Edmund.

"That's the girls' coat!" he protested.

Oops. I must have given Susan the boys' coat. Oh well, he'll just have to deal with it.

"I know." I replied, shoving it into his arms. He stared at me with an angry look.

From then on, Lucy led the way excitedly, pointing out a beautiful English looking lamppost growing in the wood. This indeed was a magical country! It looked just like it came off a neighbourhood street in London.

"We can pretend we're Arctic explorers," Lucy said, scrambling up a hill.

"I think we can do enough exploring, without the pretending," I said, following her. We crossed the crest of the hill, laughing. I slipped and plummeted down the side, landing on my backside. Ouch. I'd be feeling that later.

Just then, we arrived at towering black rocks all covered in snow. Inside a tiny cleft was a lovely carven door that was broken to shreds.

"No!" cried Lucy, running forward.

"Wait, Lucy!" I called. Something can't be wrong. Not in a foreign county when we're all alone…a recipe for disaster…

We stepped through the broken door. Lucy stared, saddened and dumbfounded. I inspected the damage. Something with large claws had ripped apart every picture, book, teacup, and rocking chair. Inside it felt dark and hollow. No doubt, Lucy had seen it when it was cheeryand warm.

"Who would do something like this?" she whispered in a tiny voice.

I walked forward, nearly tripping over a broken table. I placed my hand on a stone pillar for support, and then felt the soft leathery parchment under my hand. I pulled some sort ofpaper away from the nail, trying to decipher the flowing calligraphy.

"I can't read it in this light, I have to go outside," I muttered. My family followed me out, Lucy placing a tiny hand on my arm in need to be reassured.

"The faun Tumnus is hereby charge with High Treason against her Imperial Majesty, Jadis," I shared a look with Susan. "Queen of Narnia, for comforting her enemies, harboring spies, and fraternizing with humans. Signed Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police. Long live the Queen." Beneath the signature was an over-sized paw print of a dog.

I lowered the paper. This place is dangerous. We have to get out.

But…Dad would have never run away…

"Okay, now we REALLY should go back," said Susan.

"What about Mr. Tumnus?" cried Lucy.

"If he was arrested for being with a human, there's nothing we can do!" argued Susan.

"You don't understand!" Lucy continued. "I'm the human! She must have found out he helped me!"

"We can call the police," I said rather helplessly. By all means, they may not have discovered electricity yet.

"These ARE the police," Susan motioned to the paper.

"Don't worry, Lu," I said, putting an arm around her. "We'll think of something."

"Why?" Edmund said loudly, breaking a moment's silence. "I mean, he's a criminal."

"For protecting our sister," I said, fuming. "There must be something wrong with government here if he'd been arrested for that."

"Well," interrupted Susan, "We shan't attempt any rescue mission now. There must be something else we can do without getting ourselves into trouble."

"And no hope of any dinner, either," added Edmund.

"Shut up—you!" I shouted at him.

Edmund opened his mouth to send back a nasty reply when suddenly a branch snapped. I shot around, glancing towards the edge of the clearing.

Some bushes crackled. Small footsteps passed by our left. Something was watching—or waiting—for us.

Susan put a hand on my shoulder, frightened. I grasped her hand. Lucy crept up and put an arm around Susan. The footsteps grew closer.

What if we were in some danger? I couldn't let anything happen to my family. How could I have been so stupid? I was so eager to explore the woods. I hadn't any sort of weapon to protect us—not even a stick. There could be anything out there…wolves…witches…bears…ghosts…

A stick cracked. Something furry passed behind a snow-drift.

"It's a beaver!" I yelped. "I saw its tail!"

"A beaver?" said Lucy loudly.

"Psst!" cried the Beaver, sticking its furry head out of the bush. I'd never heard a Beaver make a noise like that. What could be wrong with an ordinary beaver?

"Here boy," I said, creeping forward. I tsked my tongue, coaxing it forward.

It shuffled forward, pawing through the snow and stopping just inches in front of me.

"Here boy, come on," I coaxed again, holding my fingers out.

"I ain't gonna smell it, if that's what you want!" said a furry, fuzzy sort of voice. It came straight from the Beaver's mouth as he stared at my hand indignantly.

I jerked my hand back, startled. So now there were talking animals. What could I say to an offended Beaver?

"Sorry," I choked out.

I'm an idiot! I thought. A complete and utter idiot!

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Hope you liked this chapter! Read and Review please!

PS: Check out my other stories, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?


	14. A Day with the Beavers

**Darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you! Here, at last, is the chapter where things get going…

**Reepicheepet: **Wow, what a complement! I am so flattered. Thank-you for your review!

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**Disclaimer: I own none of this. C.S.Lewis is the genius. ;-)

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Chapter Fourteen, a Day with the Beavers**

Fortunately, the Beaver didn't appear so offended as to take notice of me.

"Lucy Pevensie?" it said, gesturing behind me. I stepped aside and let Lucy take over.

"Yes?" she said hesitantly.

"Good, I've found you!" the Beaver hopped aside and motioned for us to follow him. "Come further in, come further in! We're not safe out in the open!"

"There is no one here but us," I said, unsure if following a talking animal into a rather—excuse the word—perilous wood.

"The trees can hear us," said the Beaver in an ominous voice. "They could betray us to Her."

"Betray us to What Side?" said Edmund stoutly. "How do we know you're on the right side?"

For once, Edmund had asked something smart before leaping ahead with his eyes shut. Perhaps he had learned some sense.

"Here is my token," the Beaver said, handing Lucy a white hankie.

"Why," Lucy took it in surprise. "That's the hanky I gave to--"

"Tumnus," finished the Beaver sadly. "He gave it to me just before they took him."

"Is he alright?" Lucy said, concern making her appear older beyond her years.

The Beaver looked down, his eyes looking moist. "I don't know."

I placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "What are we supposed to do?"

"When Mr. Tumnus got wind of his arrest, before it happened, mind you," explained the Beaver. "He told me to meet you here and to return the Lady's hankie. He told me to keep you safe."

"I…I see," I faltered. So we had friends in this dangerous place. But safe from what?

"Come further in!" the Beaver cried, leaping into the bushes. "We have lingered here too long!"

I took a step after him when Susan grasped my arm. "Wait!" she cried. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Right," said Edmund, eager to please at least one of us. "How do we know we can trust him?"

"He had Lucy's hankie," I said, shrugging. "He said he knew the faun."

"He's a beaver," said Susan exasperatingly. "He shouldn't be saying anything!"

"Further in!" cried the Beaver urgently.

I grabbed Lucy's hand and followed the Beaver resolutely through the overhanging of trees. So what if I was making the biggest mistake of my life? How was I to know what was ahead? The land seemed to cloud my senses. I tried to focus a thought on what Dad might have done…but the thought flitted away before I could quite grasp it. My memories were almost growing blurry. I felt myself growing diminished in my role as a replacement to Dad for my siblings. With each passing moment, with every falling snowflake and crunching snow path, I felt more and more like a brother. Like the normal Peter. It felt so strange, I almost stopped walking altogether. I hadn't felt like an older brother for a long while. Was I failing my responsibilities by doing this? Can an older brother be sufficient enough? I needed Dad so badly. But for an odd reason…I couldn't quite recall his face…and the thought did not panic me. It almost released me.

We were in a totally different world. These were my new responsibilities. The old ones fell away like twilight fading into shadow. My call was different…even if I didn't know what it was. I just had to stay calm and do my best. Surely that's what Dad was asking of me, wasn't it? Could it have really been that simple…?

"Ah, blimey!" cried Beaver, who had led us to the top of a hill that looked upon a frozen lake with a lighted beaver-house sitting atop a dam. "Looks like the ol' girl's got the kettle on!"

"How lovely," said Lucy sincerely, trying to hide her worry for Mr. Tumnus. What a brave girl.

"Merely a trifle, merely a trifle," muttered Beaver bashfully. "And it's not finished, either!"

He led us down a steeply sloped path the side of the lake, then walking in single fall, walked across the top of the dam. The icy wall was on one side, the level green ice on the other. A light flickered inside the Beaver house, and a She-Beaver came trotting out, looking plumb and cheery.

"Beavah, is that you?" she called.

"I've brought company for dinner," said Beaver with a twinkling eye.

"To think I would live to see this day!" Mrs. Beaver giggled. "At last, at last. So tell me…you are Sons of Adam, and Daughters of Eve?"

"We're some of them," I chuckled. I suppose they didn't know of humans much here. And I suppose they had no Family Bible to read the stories like every normal family.

"That's best left for indoors, deary!" said Mr. Beaver quickly. "In you go."

"Look at my fur! You couldn't 'ave given me a moments warnin'!" hissed Mrs. Beaver.

"I'da given you a week if I thought it woulda 'elped," Mr. Beaver took her paw affectionately and led the way indoors.

We ducked through the low door and entered the house. It was very dry, very warm. "The kettles on," said Mrs. Beaver, "I'll pour the ladies some tea if they like! I daresay, Mr. Beaver, you should go catch us some fish?"

"Thatta will, lass," Mr. Beaver caught my eye. "How'd you like to see 'em fish properly caught?"

"Yes sir," I said, slipping my coat back on. I winked at Lucy and followed him out. He crawled a few feet onto the pale blue ice. I followed him up. When it darkened to a green ice, he held his hand up for us to halt. He then brushed some snow aside, and there lay an opening in the ice where the black water lapped the edges. He shot out a paw, quicker than one could say Jack Robinson, and whisked out a beautiful lake trout.

"We don't catch fish that quickly in the Professor's pond," I laughed, scooping the flopping fish into my hands and plopping it into the bucket Mr. Beaver had brought.

The process was repeated again and again until we had a bucketful of fish. We went back indoors and found that a light meal of biscuits, with jam, and a few pasta-like rolls with herbs inside. Then when it was all eaten, the fish had finished frying, and we ate and talked like a group of old friends meeting at a library. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were most entertaining, telling us all about their quiet life on the dam, and the customs and old Days of the magical land…which had a very elegant name, called Narnia. The name Narnia sounded like red scrolls…or eagles…or a trumpet sounding over banners. Majestic, in its own way. But solemn, like an old farmhouse and a forest of scurrying creatures. It was a name that had never been heard before, and the thought of it was very exciting.

But finally, the serene dinner had to be broken. Lucy finally asked the question that had been plaguing her for house.

"Please," she said softly, "Isn't there anything we can do to help Mr. Tumnus?"

"He's been taken to the Witch," Mr. Beaver avoided a direct answer. "There are none that enter that may ever exit alive."

"But there is hope, dear!" Mrs. Beaver tried to reassure Lucy kindly.

"Of course!" said Mr. Beaver. "There be more than jest 'ope! Aslan is on the move."

Aslan.

The word etched a single moment of time that was always remembered and remained frozen on the timeline. The word seemed to float into the air, then burst like a soap bubble and sprinkle each and every one of us with some sort of new thought.

Aslan…the sound stirred a strange feeling inside. I'd barely felt it before. It almost felt like bravery. I'd never felt bravery before. I'd try to be brave, look brave, feel brave…but had I ever truly accomplished it? No. I was always scared.

The word Aslan was like a glimpse into being brave. It unrolled like a blanket, displaying adventures that I could never guess.

"Who's Aslan?" asked Edmund, bursting the window of that moment. The glass shattered as the Beaver laughed uproariously.

"Who's Aslan?" he repeated, chuckling. "Cheeky little blighter." He laughed again, then slowed to a stop. "Wait—you be tellin' me you don't know who he is?"

"I don't," Edmund said truthfully.

"He's the King of this world!" said Mr. Beaver. "Lord of the Wood! Son of the Emperor across the Sea!"

"We haven't been here very long," I tried to stand up for my embarrassed brother.

"He's been gone for ages," said Mrs. Beaver.

"But he is here…now!" cried Mr. Beaver. "An he's waitin' fer you at the Stone Table!"

"Waiting for us?" questioned Lucy.

"You're bloomin' jokin'!" Beaver was exasperated with us. "You don't know the prophecy?"

"No," I said, sighing. Life was beginning to grow very complex.

"When Adams flesh and Adams bone," recited Mr. Beaver excitedly, "Sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done."

There was a moment of silence.

"Four children will come and defeat the White Witch, then rule Narnia in peacetime again," explained Mrs. Beaver.

"And you think WE'RE the ones?" I exclaimed. How could they have been so mistaken?

"Well, you better be," Beaver stared at us in surprise. "Aslan has already set up yer army!"

"Mum sent us away from war," Susan kept a clear head and stood. "She wouldn't want us to get involved. We must go. I'm sorry."

"No," protested Beaver.

"You don't understand," I said, "We're not heroes."

"You can't just leave!" cried Beaver.

"He's right," said Lucy softly. "We have to help Mr. Tumnus. I owe it to him!"

"It's out of our hands, Lucy," I said, the look on her face tearing my heart. "There's nothing we can do!"

Lucy looked down at her folded hands.

"We've got to go," I repeated. "Ed?"

Ed was gone.

"Ed?" I cried, glancing around. The door stood ajar, blowing in little tufts of snow.

"Has he ever been here before?" asked Beaver. "Alone?"

"Yes," said Lucy hesitantly.

"He's betrayed us to the White Witch!" cried Beaver, panicked. "As soon as I saw him, I knew he had eaten her food. He's under her spell. He'll get you all killed--"

"I'm going to kill _him_," I said, choking over my words.

We had to get him back.

We had to get him back now!

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**Read and review please, I hope you enjoyed. **


	15. Flee from the Witch

**Reepicheepet: **Yes, I did follow the movie a little closer for that one. The chapter in the book was quite long and I couldn't remember much from it ;-) This one will be more of C.S. Lewis and me. Thank-you for the review!

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**Disclaimer: As I've said before, C.S. Lewis is the genius. He's my hero. If I ever become half of who he is, I'll be very happy.

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**Chapter Fifteen, Flee from the Witch**

I rushed forward and threw open the door. We had to find him first.

"Edmund!" I cried, cupping my hands to my mouth and shouting into the dark evening. "Edmund, where are you?"

"Edmund!" screamed Lucy in her high-pitched voice. "Edmund, please come back!"

"This is dreadful," said Susan, shading her eyes from the snow clustering in her eyelashes. "I wish we had never come!"

"What on earth can we do?" I dropped to my knees on what I guessed to be the shoreline, searching for tracks. There were none.

"We got to go, and hurry," Mr. Beaver began to hustle about excitedly.

"Yes," I said, standing. "He's right. We'll divide into four search parties. Whoever finds him meets back here--"

"Search parties, Son of Adam?" Beaver raised an eyebrow. "No, he's gone to the Witch, I tell you. It's too late for 'em. The Witch wants you all dead."

"He's my brother!" I shouted at him, unable to contain myself. "We've got to do something!"

Beaver fell silent, and began to pace back and forth, hands clasped behind his back.

"This is all. your. fault." Susan spat the words out as if they'd been bitterly waiting for hours to come out.

"My fault?" I whirled towards her.

"None of this would have happened if you had listened to me in the first place!"

"Oh, so you knew this would happen?" I shot back sarcastically.

"I didn't know what would happen, which is why we should have left when I said--"

"Please," interrupted Lucy. "Please don't fight."

"We've got to go after him," I turned back to Beaver, my chest heaving with anger. How could Susan blame me for this? It wasn't my fault!

"Well, you can't waltz up to the Witches House," said Beaver plaintively. "She wants all four of you, then she'll have four new statues in her courtyard."

"Statues?" I mentally kicked myself. "She'd turn us into statues!"

"But for now," Beaver opened the door and motioned us back inside. "She'll use Edmund as bait and keep him alive. Or half-alive." Susan glared at me with horror etched across her face.

"Oh, can no one help us?" wailed Lucy.

"Only Aslan can help your brother," Beaver tried to bring some bit of comfort.

"Just how much did he hear, deary?" Mrs. Beaver had waited patiently inside, cleaning the dinner remnants and dishes. "Does he know of Aslan's plans?"

"By jove!" cried Beaver. "Did he hear all that?"

"Yes…I'm afraid he did," concluded Lucy.

"Then speed's the word!" Beaver jumped to his feet again. "The Witch could make him tell her where Aslan is. All she'd 'ave to do is get 'er sledge and come between us and the Table. We've got to go now!"

"Right then," Mrs. Beaver began to hustle about, picking up sacks and stuffing items for traveling into the bags. Susan quickly followed the example and helped.

"Course," Beaver continued. "She'll come right HERE, first and foremost. Mrs. Beaver, we ain't got time for this!"

"You can thank me later, Beavah," Mrs. Beaver shot curtly over her shoulder. "When we've walked for hours you be thankful for the food I'm packin'! We can't starve Narnia's only hope, could we now?"

It was nearly ten minutes before Mrs. Beaver declared that all had been packed. She gave us a sack each and led the way outdoors again. Mr. Beaver locked up the door and blew out the last lantern, then we made our way in the grim twilight.

He led us into a wash, a valley of sorts, with high clefts on either side sprouting baby pines. The snow was untreaded and pure. Gray and lavender shadows crept across the path like crooked arms. The shadow of two crags fell behind, covering half the moonlight. The crags of the two hills looked darker, and more suspicious at full nighttime. I knew I imagined it, but I could have sworn I had seen the turrets of a stone castle nestled between the hills, shining in the moon like a tower of ice.

The night drew on, making us feel like we were stumbling along in a icy dream. When I thought I was going to fall asleep on our feet, Mr. Beaver led the way right into the side of the bank, where a cave was dug. We scrambled inside and plopped our burdens down, then snuggled up in our heavy coats and the Beaver's to make a more comfortable rest until morning.

Susan sat next to me, but tried to edge away and fall asleep without getting too close. It hurt that she was till mad at me. I was mad at her too. But I was going to protect her, no matter what.

Mrs. Beaver passed around some sort of liquid that made us very drowsy and warm right down to our toes, though the flavour was awful.

Suddenly, there was a cry of a wolf against the high, stiff, chilled breeze. Lucy, already asleep, clutched my arm. I put my arm around her and drew her close, whispering, "Shhh. Go to sleep, Lucy. You're fine."

Susan shifted and rested her head against my shoulder.

"Are you still mad at me?" I whispered.

"I'm very cold," she replied sleepily. I gave her my blanket and put my arm behind her head so that she could use it as a pillow. She could be mad at me all she wanted. I was still her older brother, and I was going to take care of her needs.

I wondered if Edmund was stuck in all this.

Was he even alive?

The old life, as my mind began to call it, dribbled back into my brain. I saw Mum waving at the train station. I saw the Macready coming in her cart. I saw Lucy dive into the wardrobe. I wrote a letter to Mum…

Mum! What if Edmund was dead? How could I tell Mum?

"Sleep," Mrs. Beaver said softly. "Peter, dear, your no good to us tomorrow for traveling. You shouldn't wake up frozen and half dead, not if I have anything to do with it."

I smiled quietly and shifted slightly. The moon crept behind a cloud, dimming my senses and evaporating the light. I fell asleep to the sound of Lucy snoring softly and the silence of a new snowfall.

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**Here's one of my favorite quotes--something to make you think.**

_What is a friend? It's a single soul dwelling in two bodies. _

_Aristotle_

**Smile and say hi to someone you don't know very well today! ;-)**


	16. Father Christmas

**Darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you for the review. Sorry this took so long to post. Summer has been filled with activities.

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**Where's my other reviewers? Capegio and elektrum and reepicheepet? Perhaps they are on vacation. Hey, in case something in my story offended you, just let me know.

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**Chapter 16, Father Christmas**

There was the sound of jingling bells. We'd all dreamed the sounds all night, fearing the sound of the Witch discovering our hideout. The Witch wouldn't use bells on the hunt. Or would she?

I fully awoke, scrambling to an upright position. Beaver hung by the entrance, stiff and listening carefully to the sound of the bells. He dashed out into the snow.

"No," cried Mrs. Beaver, "You're no good to me dead, my dear!"

I put a hand on her tiny shoulder comfortingly. "Shhhhh."

Lucy woke up beside me, tense and looking in need of a hot bath. Susan jerked and shot up, staring hard at the entrance. She panted slightly. She must have woken up from a nightmare. She glanced at me, and then recoiled like a crab into his shell.

"It's alright!" called Mr. Beaver. Relief filled the cavity of air that crackled with tenseness like electricity. "It's alright. Son of Adam, daughters of Eve! It isn't Her!"

We scrambled up the steep slopes of the tiny valley, struggling through the snow. The snow was no longer crusty. It mushed under our feet like mud and made the going very slow. It almost seemed like it was melting.

"Her Power is crumbling," Mr. Beaver's head appeared over the edge, giving his wife a hand up, then helped Lucy. "Mr. Tumnus must have told Lucy about the eternal Winter."

"Yes, he did," panted Lucy, heaving herself over the top.

"It's always winter," continued Beaver excitedly, "Never Christmas! Come and see!"

Susan and I were the last ones up, being heavier and taller. What we beheld on the brink was a shocker that I never expected!

There was Father Christmas. A tall old man, dressed in robes of brown and red that were velvet. His white beard cascaded over his chest. His sleigh was decorated in reds and golds, the reindeer were brown and fuzzy with racks of antlers that boasted of a thousand years in service. Father Christmas stood next to it, his hands planted on his hips, laughing with joy at the sight of us. It was different than the Father Christmas that seemed real only to Lucy, the last of the family to blame him for filling her stockings. The picture books we've read as children showed him only to be funny and jolly. Seeing him for real was like no other. He wasn't only jolly and funny, he was also old and wise. He was solemn and glad. He was like an old wizard, full of tales and lore, rather than him being forgetful and playing with toys. And yet there he was. I felt silly believing in him now. I could have believe he was real my whole life, rather than waste six years between ages ten and sixteen.

"I've come at last," he said, smiling grandly. "She has tried to keep me out, but the spell is broken. Christmas is here. And Spring is not long in the making."

"Merry Christmas, sir," said Lucy politely, holding back her giddy excitement for the moment.

"And now for your presents!" he cried, pulling out a bag of enormous size from the sleigh.

"Presents!" echoed Lucy, running forward.

"Mrs. Beaver," Father Christmas said, "You'll find a new sewing machine at your home. The Witch destroyed it on the hunt for You."

"The house is locked," said Mrs. Beaver apologetically.

"Locks and bolts, brass and hammers," the Father said, laughing. "It makes no difference to me! And Mr. Beaver, you'll find your home repaired and finished."

"Oi!" cried Mr. Beaver in shock. "Why, thank-you, sir! Why'd I'd never expected… _this_."

"Peter." Father Christmas turned to me solemnly.

"Here, sir," I said hesitantly, stepping forward.

"Here is your presents," he handed a broad-bladed sword with a golden hilt, wrapped in its sheath, to me first. It was followed by a strong, lightweight shield of silver, with the shape of a red lion embedded in a stance of nobility and fire.

"Thank-you," I said quietly. I did not want to use weapons. I didn't want to see them.

"They are tools," said Father Christmas, "Not toys. Bear them well."

I pulled the sword from its sheath. It's blade shined in the light, tiny inscriptions in a magical language etched into the edge. Susan's eyes grew wide at the sight of it.

"Susan." Father Christmas handed her a bow, carven wood and lightweight and beautiful. A quiver of arrows followed, and a lovely carven ivory horn that hung on a red strap. "This bow, use with these arrows, will not easily miss," Father Christmas explained. "And blow this horn in your greatest need. Some help will always come to you."

Susan smiled gratefully and stared in wonder at her weapons.

"Lucy," Father Christmas knelt to her height. "In this bottle," he handed her a flask made of diamond. "is a cordial made from the fire flowers that grow on the mountains of the sun. It can heal any wound. And this dagger," he handed her the tiny dagger in its red sheath. "Id only to defend yourself at greatest need. You and your sister are not to be in battle."

"I think I am brave enough, sir," Lucy said softly.

"Battles are made much too ugly when women fight," Father Christmas stood and winked at me. "The will of Aslan will be determined when you reach the Stone Table. But here is something for you all." He pulled a box from the bag, and inside the box was a full meal of breakfast foods for us all.

We murmured our thank-you's.

"Long live the True King," cried He, jumping into his sleigh and taking off into the snowy wood. "Merry Christmas to all!" His voice echoed once more, then faded into non existence.

"Come now," Mrs. Beaver said quickly, "We must eat the food he has so kindly given us! Then we must be on our way. Heaven's above, aren't we thankful I brought the butter knife?"

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Read and Review puh-lease! I love your input, suggestions, critisism, and praise!


	17. The Great River

**Elektrum: **You're absolutely right—I've got the ages a little mixed up—merely for my own benefit. I didn't really feel like writing from a thirteen-year-old point of view (mostly because I don't understand a THING that goes on in the head of a thirteen-year-old-boy) ;-) I really loved Disney's portrayal of Peter (the actor being seventeen), so I've compromised. I've added two years to Lewis and minus two years from Disney. I've made him 15, while Peter referred to six years, he will be turning sixteen after coronation, so it's pretty close….

**Darkdestiny2000: **I KNOW! I am very excited to write it…writing action is what I love doing the most. What provoked me to write this was because I wanted to delve deeper into what Peter was thinking during the battle, but I didn't want to do a one-shot story, I wanted everyone to feel as if they understood his character better and why he did certain things during battle. Yay for the battle coming soon………

**Reepicheepet: **Yeah, you totally caught me on that one. ;-) I spaced out and missed the argument, though I managed to get in one line from the book—"shut up—you!" Part of me was rushing that particular chapter because I wanted to get to the exciting stuff. I'm glad you liked the Beavah's accents. lol. I'll dedicate a future journal entry of Peter's to you when he begins to keep when after coronation. Nova Scotia, eh? Very cool. Beautiful country, Canada is.

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**Authors Note: **About this time in the story, Lewis described their walk to the Stone Table calm and full of signs of spring. In the movie, they run into a little waterfall problem…and a few wolves. I want to stay true to Lewis, but the part where Peter has to choose between killing the wolf or waiting for something to happen is pretty important. I'm going to take a little side trail here and write the Waterfall scene. Don't hate me! ;-)

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**Chapter 17, the Great River**

After the shock of seeing Father Christmas, it took a while to make ourselves eat the beautiful breakfast he had prepared for us. Our appetites won out eventually. Lucy didn't say a word, only ate her rolls with full cheeks and a very smug smile. Susan finally asked her exasperatingly, "Lucy, for Heaven's sake, what are you smiling about?"

Lucy swallowed her roll and sipped her tea once. She nodded in the direction that Father Christmas had taken. "Told you he was real."

"We must be off," Mrs. Beaver said quickly, thinking the mere pleasure of Lucy gaining a point would begin a row of some sort. After all, we were still siblings with faults.

"Right, my dear," agreed Beaver.

So we began walking. This time, the snow was much thinner and easier to walk in shallow places. Puddles appeared underneath the slush and caused a few of us to fall on hands and knees into the chilling water. It felt good to stretch our legs after a cramped night in the cave and put the muscle to use. Strength from the clean, fresh air flowed into us with each step.

After nearly a half hour or so of just walking, with not much change in scenery save a few trees growing new leaves and some birds awakening, we came to a stop above a completely frozen waterfall.

"No one said anything about crossing a river," Susan said shortly.

"It's been frozen a hun'rd years," assured Mrs. Beaver, though at a second glance, she nudged Mr. Beaver down the hill. "Though spring is comin', and comin' fast. You ought to go first, deary, you are a clever swimmeh."

"Can't you make a dam?" asked Lucy, scrambling down the rocks.

"I'm not THAT fast," replied Beaver, inching his way onto the ice, patting down places with his tail before stepping onto the cracked shelves.

"Come on," I urged Lucy the rest of the way and signaled for Susan. "Hurry!"

"Can't we think about this a minute?" asked Susan, staying on the ledge, looking around nervously.

"We don't have a minute," I snapped, holding my hand out to help her step down.

Susan didn't accept my hand. "I'm just trying to be realistic!"

"No!" I corrected, pulling my hand back. "You're trying to be smart. As usual."

I turned my back on her and arrived at the bottom. Let her be stubborn. She hated me anyways because Edmund had disappeared. She blamed me. Why should I waste my time?

There was a long wolf howl.

"Beaver," I said, relieved when Susan jumped down and joined me very swiftly. "You said the Witch would try to hunt us down. But the Witch wouldn't do it herself, would she?"

"No, she's got slaves fo'that!" cried Beaver, motioning us forward.

I took a tentative step into the rocking shelves of ice. "What slaves does she use for hunting?"

Beaver glanced at me and halted. "Wolves."

Another howl resonated into the sound of the river flowing beneath the ice.

"If Mum knew what we were doing--" said Susan, growling under her breath.

"Mum's not here!" I interrupted, tired of her trying to act like the old Susan. This land was changing us. Susan was fighting every step of the way.

I grasped Lucy's hand and followed Beaver another three steps. Mrs. Beaver followed the rear, slapping her tail nervously against the snow.

"Look!" Lucy screamed, pointing upwards. The tails of iron gray dogs waved gallantly above the crest of the frozen waterfall edge. They were cutting us off!

"Run!" I cried, not caring how carefully I stepped. The ice rocked beneath us and gave way near the edges.

The three wolves leaped ahead of us, having reached the opposite shore—using their lightweight advantage and having crossed at the most ridiculously dangerous natural bridge—and jumped to the shore. A wolf pounced on Beaver from above and held his neck with his paw.

"No!" cried Mrs. Beaver in a panic. Her tiny, shocked scream forced my hand in a rush of emotion to draw my sword. I held it unsteadily in front of me.

"Put that down, boy," a grating voice said. The lead wolf leered at me, taking precautious, tense steps towards me. "Someone could get hurt."

"Don't worry 'bout me," cried Beaver, coughing from the paw crushing his throat. "Just kill'em now!"

I hesitated.

"Leave now while you can," snarled the wolf, "And your brother goes with you."

A bargain. Bargains are dangerous. The villains never keep their bargain in all the stories I'd read Lucy. I held the sword higher. They'd only trick us.

"Maybe we should listen to him!" screamed Susan.

The wolf chuckled, repeating my own words back to me, chilling me to the bone. "Smart girl."

"Kill him now!" screamed Mr. Beaver, yelping in pain when the wolf snapped his ear.

"Come on, Son of Adam," taunted the Wolf, stalking towards me slowly. "This isn't your war. Just take your family and go!"

I wanted to. I really did. I could just get out of this dangerous place. This whole exploration blew in our faces.

For the first time in two days, I thought of Dad. Would he have run from the problem? But the wolf was right—it wasn't my war! Or was it?

"Look," Susan screamed, her features begging me to listen. "Just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword doesn't make you a hero!"

Heroes come in all shapes in sizes. I've always never thought myself of a hero. I was never trying to be one. But I had to do what was best. Did doing what was best for my family mean pulling them into danger?

"No Peter!" gasped Mr. Beaver, glancing at his crying wife then back at me. "Narnia needs ya! Gut 'em while you've gotta chance!"

It's just an animal. I can't kill it. It doesn't know any better. It looked like a dog we used to own. Does it really know what its doing?

"What's it going to be, Son of Adam?" the wolf backed us toward the shore again, the river churning under our feet. "I won't wait forever. And neither will the river."

"Peter!" screamed Lucy, grabbing my arm. I looked above and saw the ice cracking in several places. Water shot in small jet streams out the cracks.

My mind scrambled in a heat of emotion and sense of failure. If only the ice could hold us down…my sword was sharp…

"Hold onto me!" I cried. I fell to my knees. Lucy hugged my arm, Susan grasped my shoulder. The ice shattered, the waterfall broke free. I plunged my sword deep into the ice, squeezing the handle for all its worth.

The wave of water jolted every sense painfully with its sharp coldness. The ice ledge broke lose and carried us down the river. The wolves were lost into the rapids. The beavers escaped and swam up to the ice, then slowed us down. The current tired to carry us many miles, but the Beavers paddled us carefully to shore.

Soaking wet, I scrambled onto shore. Lucy went limp. I turned to help her and found only her fur coat in my hand.

No. No she can't be gone! She was so little, she couldn't survive water like this!

"What have you done?" Susan said in a gut-wrenching scream, blaming me again. I was helpless. I couldn't say a word.

"Lucy?" screamed Susan, sobs choking her words. "Lucy!"

"Has anyone seen my coat?" asked Lucy practically, emerging from frozen reeds to our left. Relief coursed through my veins. My shoulders sagged with shock and I stepped forward, not saying a word, and tucked her sodden coat around her.

Susan pursed her lips, a tear running down her face with gladness that she was alive.

"Don't worry, dear," soothed Mr. Beaver, noticing the quiet tenseness between Susan and I. "You're brother's got you well looked after!"

"And you won't be needin' those coats anymore," sighed Mrs. Beaver, pointing.

A beautiful tree covered in icicles was flowering in tiny pink blossoms. Spring was really here. And Aslan himself was only minutes away.

And we had to rescue Edmund no matter what the cost.

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Read and Review, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease. I'll make you a cake!

well ok not a real cake I CANNOT COOK. I will send an internet hug. Yay for hugs!


	18. Aslan Himself

**Reepicheepet: **Well, er, that's okay. I respect parent's opinions.  Why, thank-you! I never thought I wrote very fast. Just you wait—when I get a case of writers block, I won't seem very fast anymore. lol. Hope u enjoy this chappie!

**Darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you very much! Like I said, writing the action is my favorite! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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**Authors Note: **Okay, I miss the fox. I just had to put the fox in. The fox wasn't in the book hardly, but he was a prominent character in LW&W film. I had to have the fox!

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**Chapter 18, Aslan Himself**

For hours we walked, and as we walked, spring crept in as stealthily as Lucy sneaks down the stairs on Christmas morning. I'd never seen flowers blooming, vines growing, and leaves popping as fast as I did during our walk.

Long before the snow had fully disappeared, the warmth forced us to leave the fur coats behind in a tree. Birds began a chorus and filled the woods with alarming sound that hadn't been heard in Narnia for a hundred years. You could feel Aslan in the air, the trees, and the wind. I was so excited to see him I moved like I was in quicksand. My stomach was in my ankles and my breath was short.

We reached a bend in the path that rounded the side of an embankment. Just as we passed under a low hanging branch, a pair of bright yellow eyes blazed at us from under the shadow of the grasses.

"Evening, Gents," the wolf said cordially, blinking its yellow eyes.

"One more step, traitor, and I'll chew you to splinters," cried Mr. Beaver, rubbing his sore ear where the wolf had snapped it earlier.

The golden eyes peered closer, and a fox stepped from under the overhanging bushes.

"Relax," the fox said suavely. "I'm one of the good guys."

"You look an awful lot like the bad ones," snapped Beaver, allowing Mrs. Beaver to tug him back a step gently.

"An unfortunate family resemblance," Fox said carefully. "When the war is over I'll challenge you to a friendly argument of breeding. But later."

He leaned forward, his blinking eyes fixated on us. "You are being tracked."

"A'much as'e could tell, the wolves are dead," Beaver said, "They drowned, I thought!"

"Wolves can swim," the fox said. "I am forwarding a warning from Aslan himself to make all haste to the Stone Table as planned."

"You've seen Aslan?" cried Mrs. Beaver with excitement.

"What's he like?" added Lucy.

"Like…" The golden eyes became slightly green, a warm smile brightened the face of the Fox. "Like everything we'd ever dreamed. It's been a pleasure to serve you, My Queens." He bowed low to Susan and Lucy. "King Peter, you shall be glad to have Aslan by your side in battle. I am on my way to gather the troops."

"We're going to do any fighting," Susan said darkly, shooting me a glance.

"But…" the Fox looked devastated. "The Prochecy, King Peter…"

"We just want Edmund back," I whispered hoarsely. "That's all I want."

The Fox turned without a word and slunk into the bushes like a whipped dog. He waved his tail once and turned again. "Aslan be with us all." and then he dived under cover and disappeared into the green.

The conversation with the Fox left us quiet and muddled in our own thoughts. It was only a few minutes later, when rather unexpectedly, we arrived on the crest of a tiny grassy hill, and below us, was Aslan's camp.

The battlements and flags blew in the wind, and the brightly coloured tents dotted the valley depths. Creatures of amazing sorts—bears, leopards, eagles, horses—glanced up at us and then spoke aloud to their companions. Other creatures I'd only seen in storybooks played alongside them like one animal of one herd—like centaurs, fauns, nymphs, naiads, dryads, griffins, and even more kinds than I could count or ever know of.

We descended down the hill, and a large horn call announced our arrival. We were led down the center of the valley to a large red tent. There, the creatures were set up as if it was a throne room. But I saw no Aslan.

The tent flap moved aside and a great tan paw emerged. The paw brought forth a Lion so large and so golden that it left us breathless. Every hair, every inch of mane, his eyes, everything inside clicked. It felt like a puzzle was completed. When I looked at him, I felt whole, like there was a part of me that was missing that I never knew I had.

And then when he made eye contact, it was like the world melted away. His eyes were like deep wells that were deeper than the definition of deep. They were green on the surface, like the reflection of trees on a pond surface that went all the way to the core of the earth. When he saw us, his eyes glistened slightly yellow. The yellow sparkle looked like indescribable joy.

When his mouth opened and He finally spoke, his voice was rough and animal-like, and yet his voice was the most soothing sound I had ever heard. It felt like that voice could talk me through or into anything It liked.

I was feeling more and more fulfilled, and more and more awkward as the moment passed over. I pulled out my sword, hoping they understood I was only trying to salute Him, and I raised it a bit high over my head.

"We have come…Aslan."

"Welcome Son of Adam," replied his Voice, so rich and so alive it took every single fidget away. "Welcome Daughters of Eve. And welcome Beavers. Where is the fourth?" he stared into my eyes, but I couldn't reply. Suddenly, I knew it wasn't Edmund's fault. Or Dad's. Dad had been there for him. Edmund tried to get attention from me. The only way he got it was when I was yelling at him for something stupid he had done. Suddenly everything made sense! It was my fault that he went wrong!

"He has betrayed them to the White Witch," replied Beaver quietly.

"It's my fault," I blurted. "It was all my fault. I was angry with him, it helped him go wrong. I was too hard on him." I wished the Lion could punish me for what kind of a brother I was. It would be easier to know I could pay for what I was. Rather, Edmund was alone some where—probably hurting and hungry—and all I could do was stand under the intense gaze of Aslan.

"We were all too hard on him," Susan offered quietly, placing a warm hand on my shoulder encouragingly. It was a silent gesture of forgiveness.

"Please, sir," whispered Lucy, "Can anything be done to save Edmund?"

"All will be done that can be done," offered Aslan, his eyes a very dull green that dripped with sadness. "It will be harder than you think."

There was a silence. But it wasn't awkward. There was just nothing to be said.

"Let a feast be prepared," cried Aslan, "Take the Daughter's of Eve to the pavilion and let them find fresh clothes and rest. Son of Adam, come with me."

Aslan led me to the opposite hill lining the camp, and stopped at the very top. When we reached the top, the view that lay before us was incredible. The sun slunk slowly behind us, lighting the forests below in gold and orange. A silver river wound its way east. The clouds were a soft pink and lavender, and the sky behind was turning dark blue with hues of gray.

Glimmering in the distance was the sea, and a sparkle of light boasted of a tall turreted castle with glass windows.

"That, O Man," said Aslan solemnly, "Is where the Four thrones await you, where you are to be King. I show you this because you are the first born, and you will be High King over all kings."

I couldn't reply. I was almost sixteen but hardly capable of ruling a country!

"You doubt the prophecy?"

"Well…no…but I don't think I'm the one for this prophecy. You don't really know who I am." It was a stupid thing to say, in my heart I knew that he could read all my dreams and desires.

"Peter Pevensie, formally of Finchley," Aslan listed my personal information quietly, not boastfully. He was only making his point.

"Peter, someday you will understand the Deep Magic by which we are governed here. It is more powerful than anything and rules over Narnia. It defines right from wrong and knows all our destinies. Yours…and mine."

I didn't understand. I was new to believing in magic. It sounded like was the Preacher would speak of in a Sunday morning service…but this time I knew it had more meaning for me. There was a purpose for me here…but I didn't know how it all fit together.

"I couldn't even protect my own family," I blurted.

"You brought them this far," Aslan said gently.

"Not all of them." Images rushed through the darkest recesses of my mind of Edmund being beaten, abused, starved, tortured…

"I will try and help your brother," Aslan comforted. "But consider what I ask of you. I want my family to be safe too."

His family? Aslan was like…a god. Did he have family? He seemed beyond what I considered a normal family. He could easily mean the entire world of Narnia.

I fell silent. The soft breeze blew. Twilight descended, and the world of Narnia grew into misty grays and blues. Shadow fell.

"Your father would be proud of you," whispered Aslan.

I choked. Dad would be proud of me? Proud of a failure?

I never cried. I didn't want to cry. I forced myself to swallow a lump in my throat. I wasn't going to look like a wimp in front of a Great Lion.

There was the sound of a horn. The sound was rich and long, but powerful and very urgent.

"Your sister's horn," Aslan said in a low purring type of voice.

Suddenly I understood.

"Susan!" I cried, turning and running as fast as I could. The wind blew past me. Shadows darted in every direction. I tripped and rolled down the rest of the hill. I leapt to my feet again and ran blindly toward the turmoil of the camp edge near the forest. A scream resonated into the night. With every heart beat I heard the name Susan and begged whoever was listening…God…Aslan, perhaps? That she would be okay.

God…let Susan be alright…

Where was she? I couldn't find her. Something large and gray leapt into the clearing, trying to dive upa tree.

A howl echoed off the valley walls.

It was a wolf.

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**Oooooh, cliffhanger. Hope you enjoyed this chap. Read and Review, or I'll call in Aslan and the troops. Whoopee!**


	19. Wolf's Bane

**Almyra: **Thank-you for the review! Yeah, I like that line too, its pretty...what's the word...thrilling. I'm so glad you like my story. Here's the next chappie!

**darkdestiny2000: **No worries, the fox will not die. I love the fox. The fox is one of my favorite characters. Did you know that the voice of the fox is the voice of Prince Charming from Shrek 2? ("Um, okay, FYI, not MY FAULT!" --I love that line) Thatnk-you for your reviews, as always!

**Capegio: **YAY! You're back! I'm so glad you're still enjoying my story! Thank-you for all your input, I totally appreciate it.

**elektrum: **I'm glad you love the fox. I like the fox too. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**reepicheepet: **It's fine, I'll send an internet cake if not an internet hug. Oh wait...I already responded to this one, huh? Well, okay, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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**This chapter is one of the reasons it is rated T. Be prepared, my readers, for a little blood and wolf scariness. It may seem a little gory for the younger readers. But well, I warned ya! So there! ((jk, jk)) Pirates Ye Beware!

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Chapter 19, Wolf's Bane

The naiads screamed shrilly and sped in every direction. The wolf was the same one that cornered us on the river. He was big, and gray, and his hackles stood on end and gave the appearance of something so ferocious that for a moment I stopped.

Where was Susan?

The wolf leaped up and down at the bottom of a tree, snapping its red, flailing jaws at a foot dangling down. I gasped and surged forward—Susan was grasping the tree branch, having pushed Lucy to one higher above—and turning a pasty white colour. She was going to faint and fall right into the waiting Wolf.

I faintly heard the sound of aide coming. "Come soon," I prayed.

"This is Peter's time," said That Voice.

It's true—I felt like I failed. Aslan was giving me a chance, to prove to myself, that I could do this. But now that the moment came, I wasn't ready for it!

"Hold on Susan," I called shakily. I drew my sword and held it in the evening light. "Hold on a moment. I'm here."

"Maugrim," a second wolf said sneeringly, emerging out of the underbrush. "We've got company."

Susan dizzyingly clutched the branch and slumped against it.

Maugrim, the wolf, whipped around so quickly it caught me off guard. I felt sick. Maugrim no longer looked like a Talking Beast with a personality and mannerisms, but a savage dog with nothing in its mind except for murder.

He snarled, drool dripping from his fangs and his tongue lolling from his bared mouth. He began to circle me, bent low to the ground.

I jumped forward and swiped my sword to cut him across the shoulder, but he dived to the left. He crept forward again and suddenly leaped straight for me, rather than catch me off guard from the sides. Someone screamed.

A massive brute of heat and hair smothered me, slamming me against the dirt. I plunged my sword between its forelegs into his heart.

The wolf struggled with my sword in its breast and jumped backwards, trying to escape the steel in his gut. I jerked my sword away, which pulled the wolf directly against me. It seemed neither alive nor dead. Maugrim's giant head came bashing forward, his open mouth coming for my face. I managed to duck before his teeth clobbered my forehead.

Maugrim's blood…or my blood, I had no definition of direction or time, splattered again and again. Maugrim's eyes finally glistened yellow and he slumped, dead at last. The body fell on top of me. With what little strength I had left I thrust my hands forward into the bloody mass of hair and pushed the wolf onto the ground.

I struggled to my knees and managed to pull the sticky blade from Maugrim. Feeling limp and exhausted all over, I dropped my heavy weapon beside me and staggered to the tree.

"Peter?" whispered Susan anxiously.

I held out my arms and she fell into them, wrapping her arms around my neck, and then crying softly. Not that I didn't mind. I felt now she had truly forgiven me.

A shy dryad carefully inched her way forward, put her arms around Susan, and led her away. Lucy then jumped from the branch almost on top of my head, then curled up into my arms like a tiny baby.

I kissed her cheek and carried her with me. Out of the shadows stepped Aslan, a centaur or two, and a leopard.

"Quick," shouted Aslan, in an urgent voice I had never heard before. "There is the second wolf, hiding in the bushes. Track him to his mistress—he will lead you to the fourth Son of Adam!"

The centaurs and leopards dived away, and a dozen or more hooves galloped on after them, joining in the chase.

Edmund! They were going to rescue Edmund! Oh, God…please help him be alive…

"You have forgotten to clean your sword," Aslan said gently.

I blushed and looked down, away behind me, where I had left my precious gift near the heap of the wolf. I set Lucy down next to Aslan and picked up my sword, then wiped it against the grass. It left the grass stained dark.

"Kneel, Son of Adam," said Aslan.

I knelt quickly, not needing any encouragement. I wasn't sure what was happening.

"Rise," said Aslan, "Sir Peter Wolf's-Bane."

I had been knighted! Back at home some kids dreamed of being knighted by the Queen when they grew older and accomplished. I had succeeded in protecting my family…and I was knighted to prove it.

"And never forget to clean your sword," Aslan smiled gently.

I stood and bowed low. "Thank-you, As--"

Lucy yawned.

Aslan nudged her towards me. "Get the little one to bed. Lillywater will show her to bed with Susan. That is your tent."

He motioned towards a random tent on the edge of the hill, next to Susan and Lucy's. I went inside tiredly and found some fresh clothing. I changed into trousers and a linen shirt, then fell exhausted into the hammock.

I don't know when I fell asleep. I dreamed we were all home. Well, at least Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were home. I could see them, but I wasn't there.

"Where is your brother?" Mother's voice echoed.

"In Narnia," they replied, "He is King of Narnia."

"You speak nonsense," argued Mum.

"He sent us back to you," said Edmund, his voice strange and weak sounding. "He decided he couldn't leave the country in such need. We're supposed to take care of you."

"Edmund is back!" screamed Mum.

"What?" I cried. She appeared to see me for the first time.

"I said, 'Edmund's back'!" she repeated.

I shifted on the bed and rolled over, almost falling out of the hammock. I woke up and stretched, then stared at Mrs. Beaver, who stood at the foot wringing her hands.

"Mrs. Beaver," I said surprisingly. "What's wrong?"

"Edmund's back," she said quickly, "I tol'you so behfore. The Fourth Son of Adam is back! He was rescue'd and brought t'camp not long after your Highness fell asleep."

"Edmund is here?" I whispered, more to myself than to her. I struggled to put on my boots. "Thank-you Mrs. Beaver!"

"Oh, no problem, deary," Mrs. Beaver said, brightening. "Anythin' to be of service." She hobbled outside into the sunny, glorious morning. I followed her out and looked around the camp. Where was he…I had to see him…I had to say I was sorry…

On a cleft of rocks, the sillouette of Aslan stood there…and before him, a small boy. He was talking to Edmund.

"Edmund!" cried Lucy excitedly, lunging forward. I caught her with my arm and silently told her to wait. Whatever was going on up there, it was something that couldn't be interrupted.

Edmund turned at the sound of her voice. He made eye contact. The look in his eyes looked…well, very tired. Grown up. Too old, like he had seen too much for his age. They looked sorry.

They moved to come down the hill…and then I was lost for words.

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**Oooooh...a semi-cliffhanger! How was that chapter? A little too gory or scary? Please let me know and I'll totally tone it down a little bit. I want to write well and please the audience, its part of being a good author**.

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**Welcome back Capegio!**


	20. Edmund

**darkdestiny2000: **Why thank-you once again! I hope you like a more detailed version of Edmund's return--more than the book, or the movie.

**Capegio: **Here's the Edmund himself! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing a little bit about Edmund--I've missed writing about all four of the children!

**elektrum: **What a complement! Thank-you so much, I really hope you like this chapter.

**reepicheepet: **Well, I'm glad its not too gory. I've written gorier too (see Chapter Six of "The Search") but I know Narnia is more children-based and I don't want to ever disappoint the name of C.S. Lewis. ;-) ...(I am EXCITED for your fan fiction!)

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**AN: FINALLY, EDMUND IS BACK! WE HAVE ALL BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS MOMENT. AND SOON, THE BATTLE IS COMING SOON. YAYAYAY! sorry... a little excited for this...**

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Chapter 20, Edmund**

Edmund was back. I wanted to run forward and wrap my arms around him, lift him in the air, and swing him around like Dad used to. I wanted to look him straight in the eye and ask if he was all right. I wanted him to look right back and say he was fine. But somehow I knew things were going to be a little more awkward.

He'd sent a Witch to come kill us. Surely our relationship would be a little…strained….and that's not a decent word for it, either. But he looked so small, and tired, and innocent. His face looked so regretful for what he had done.

I wanted to forgive him, but I think…sometime…I already had.

Aslan and Edmund walked up to us.

"Here is your brother," said Aslan. "And there is no need to talk of what is past." Aslan's eyes glimmered a hazel colour—a mixed look of sadness and relief.

"Hello," Edmund said softly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He shyly looked up and made eye contact. Oh God—what did they do to him? His lip was scabbed where it had split, a yellow bruise spread across one cheek, and he was dreadfully pale. My heart hurt at the sight of him. What could I have done to prevent this? Sadly…nothing…

If only there was something I could say to make things better. Lucy hugged him gladly, followed by our motherly Susan.

"Are you alright?" Susan asked slowly.

"I'm a little tired," replied Edmund quietly. I was sure it was an understatement. He looked beyond any earthly definition of exhausted to death.

"Get some sleep," I motioned my head for my tent, which he would be sharing with me. I could hardly think of letting him out of my sight again.

He nodded, his shoulders sagging as he walked away from us.

"Ed--" I said quickly. I had to say something. He turned and looked at me with a lost and sad look.

"Try not to wander off," I said, letting out a smile. Edmund sleepily smiled back and trudged towards the tent.

The three of us glanced at each other, suppressing screaming happiness that he was back. A tiny table was set out, and two faun-women had just placed some food on it.

"Breakfast, sires," they said, bowing and leaving.

We sat and enjoyed breakfast, talking for nearly an hour or two over light food. We left some toast, eggs, and hunks of cheese and berries out for Edmund. Just as we were going to leave, Edmund came slowly out of the tent and sat down with us.

"Morning, sleepy-head," I said, handing him a plate. "You look hungry."

Edmund nodded. "I haven't eaten since I left the Beavers."

Susan suppressed a gasp and glanced at her plate. Edmund ate, and we told him of our journey—or as much as we could without reminding him that the Witch was after us the whole way.

"You'll love the fox, when you meet him," said Susan.

Edmund choked and reached for a goblet of water.

"What's wrong?" asked Lucy, innocent as she was, she knew that the fox had upset him somehow.

"What…what did you say his job was again?" asked Edmund.

"To gather more troops," said Lucy curiously.

"It's best you send a second one." Edmund said quietly, poking his wooden fork at his lumpy eggs. "I'm not sure the fox can get through."

"Why?" asked Lucy. Susan poked her arm.

"Enough questions," she said gently, "Let him eat."

Something had happened to the fox, and Edmund knew about it…possibly even harmed the fox himself. Poor Edmund. I can't imagine the guilt he must feel. I stood and went to the rock overhang, leaning against it and watching my family.

This place was for me. They were depending on me. Aslan needed my help. I am sure they would regret basing all hope and victory on my shoulders, but I had to help in any way I can. Mum and Dad would have wanted me to help.

But my family wasn't safe here. Edmund came back from captivity, starved and with signs of being beaten, and Lucy almost drowned in the river. Susan almost fell from a tree into the jaws of a ravenous wolf. Protecting them was my first and foremost job, above any oath made to a Lion. Protection would be only in England. They had to go back. I would stay here.

Edmund took a bite that was rather too large for him and gave a half-smile.

"Narnia's not going to run out of toast, Ed," teased Lucy.

"I'm sure they'll pack some for the journey home," I said.

"We're going back?" said Susan, surprised.

"You are," I said firmly. "I promised Mum I'd keep you three safe. But that doesn't mean I can't stay behind and help."

"But they need all four of us," protested Lucy.

"It's too dangerous!" I replied. "Lucy, you almost drowned! Edmund was almost killed!"

"That's why we have to stay!" Edmund interrupted, gazing at each of us in turn, a hard, determined look in his eyes. "I've see what the White Witch can do…and I helped her do it…we can't leave these people behind to suffer from it!"

He was right. For one of the first times in his life, Edmund was being…heroic. Sacrificial. Kind…Kingly.

"Well, that's it then," Susan said stoutly, standing. Was she upset or giving in? Susan was the one who fought the existence of this place the whole way! She never quite gave into the fact these people thought we were real…and were real themselves. She was begging to go back.

"Where are you going?" I asked, standing as well.

"To get in some practice," Susan gave a smile that I had not seen in years, since she became overly concerned with being grown up.

I held out a hand to Edmund and helped him to his feet. Lucy ran off to join Susan.

"Come on, Ed," I said. "Now, are you up for a little…exercise?"

Edmund grinned. "Yes…in a moment. Can I change into one of those linen shirts?"

"You've got one on," I said.

"I've spilt egg on it. That doesn't look really narnian, does it?" Edmund led his way into the tent. "This one was laying out for me…but I suppose there's more elsewhere?"

"Somewhere," I opened a trunk and pulled out an off-white one. "Will this do?"

"Yeah," Edmund grinned and slipped off his shirt. Across his back were long, red scratches and green bruises.

"Edmund…" I whispered, stepping forward. "Oh Edmund, what did they DO to you?"

Edmund slipped the shirt on quickly. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Can I get something for you…for those?" I indicated the marks.

"No," said Edmund. "It's fine. I hardly knew they were there. It's probably just from the tree. It wasn't anything bad. I was only tied to a tree, Peter."

"And I suppose those whip lashes weren't from the leaves?"

"Peter, stop," Edmund whirled around and looked at me, his face pleading. "Can I please try and forget all that? Please?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry, I'll stop."

"Thank-you." Edmund opened the tent flap. "If there was something wrong with me, I'd be the first to say something, wouldn't I?"

"I suppose you would," I smiled a little, following him out into the sunshine.

"Now," Edmund stretched. "It's so beautiful out here! Where were we…oh yeah, didn't you say something about exercise?"

"It's not very normal," I teased. "I suppose you don't want your own sword, do you?"

"Do I?" Edmund's eyes widened. "I think I do."

"Follow me, then." I led the way through camp, not trying to hide my smile anymore.

My brother was back, and I was going to show how much I loved him till whatever end this country had for us.

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**Hello, my faithful reviewers! Read and Review...OOOORRRRRR...**

**drumroll...**

**Pip: Look, I've brought Jadis the witch.**

**reviewers: oooooh!**

**Pip: Now, Jadis, how are you feelin'?**

**Jadis: I am very upset, thank-you. You've just sucked me out of Charn and into this mess.**

**Pip: Riiiiiiiiiiiiight...whatever. Now, Jadis, what are you going to do to my dear reviewers if they do not..uh...review?**

**Jadis: Parley?**

**Pip: NO! smacks Jadis**

**Jadis: whimper Fine, Fine! I'll turn them to stone.**

**Reviewers: NOOOOOO!**

**Pip: Aha, that's right, and You'll stay stone until you review.**

**Reviewers: How cruel.**

**Pip: I'll make you pudding afterwards!**

**Reviewers: Oh, well, okay, never mind.**

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**sorry, that was SO random of me. It;s because I am STARVING MY HEAD OFF. It's two hours past lunch. I;m hungry. bye.**


	21. Aslan and the Witch

**Capegio: **That's good news! I really hope you like this chapter. Yes…the spilling egg was written from experience. Hehe.

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**Reepicheepet: **I'm glad you like Pip, cuz Pip is me, and I like being liked, because Pip is likable, so…okay, I'm done.

Yes, sadly, Edmund was whipped. The Great Lewis writes, "…he kept on slipping in the slush and mud and wet grass, and every time he slipped the dwarf gave him a curse and sometimes a flick with the whip…" (Chapter 11, Aslan is Nearer)

I said Narnia was geared towards children…because, well, its true. lol. Lewis had written adult books for years, on Christianity and Philosophy, and then he decided to write a series for children. I'm trying to write mine so that is it appropriate for children, first and foremost its target audience. But that doesn't mean adults can't enjoy the classics as well, its for the young and the young at heart both.

Sorry, this is a VERY long reply… ;-)

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**Almyra: **Did I mention you have an AWESOME penname? It sounds elvish. Thank-you for your review! I am SO pleased you are enjoying this story.

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**Darkdestiny2000: **I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the review, here's the next one.

Well……..I'll refrain Jadis from making you stone. ;-)

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**Whoa, this chapter is SO long. Longer than normal. Oh well. Enjoy, my homey G's!

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**Chapter 21, Aslan and the Witch**

I led Edmund through the tents and pavilions, holding my head high and feeling the fresh, chilling, Narnian air seep through my veins. It felt like a bubble of indescribable happiness—the look on my face was enough for anyone to not try and pop it.

"General Oreius?" I said uncertainly when we reached the great centaur, hoping I pronounced his name right. "Uh…where might I find a sword for my brother?"

General Oreius stamped a hoof and beckoned us to follow him. We did, and soon found ourselves among some red dwarves who were running a smithy, and making weapons of every sort of shape for different kinds of creatures. One dwarf was even fitting coverings for a bull's horns out of iron, making steel spikes along the back the rip through any enemy.

"Your highness," Oreius handed Edmund a long, shining sword. Though not as detailed as mine, in the hilt was engraved the carven shape of a lions head with entwining gold.

"Thank-you!" said Edmund in awe, feeling the weight of it in his hands and trying it out for size. He swished it to one side, then another, each move slightly clumsy and crooked.

"Sire, if I may?" Oreius held out his hand. Edmund hand him the sword gratefully. "Try and use your right hand," Oreius said gravely. "Keep the tip pointed up. Instead of using your elbow for the work, let your wrist move the blade in a circular shape, like this," here he demonstrated. "Keep your elbow tucked in so that none can de-limb you."

Edmund gulped and accepted his sword back. He tried the tips, using his right hand, and spun the sword smoothly.

"Very good." Oreius nodded and trotted in the direction of Aslan's tent.

I nodded and grinned at Edmund. "Think you can handle this?"

"I can handle anything," Edmund said without smiling. He suddenly pointed to a makeshift paddock of horses. "Can we ride those?"

"Indeed, sire," a voice said from above. A griffin—a mountain lion with the beak and wings of an eagle—perched atop a cliff overhang. "As far as I am concerned, they all belong to you anyway."

"Thank-you," Edmund and I said at the same time. I laughed and walked to the paddock. "Ed, when did you start saying thank-you?"

Ed grinned and petted a brown horse that was already being saddled by a servant. The horse sighed contendedly."I suppose it comes naturally."

I sobered. The change was amazing. Edmund had manners, courage…and more. He seemed so grown up. I reached over randomly and put an arm around his shoulders. "Ed," I said, "Um…did I tell you I was proud of you?"

Edmund shifted out of my small hug and looked up at me, surprised. "Peter, did you just say…what I thought you said?"

"I guess so," I said, equally confused.

"I've never heard you say that before." Edmund nodded his thanks to the faun who had finished saddling the horse. "Never to me, at least."

"I think I owe you an apology for that," I said. "There have been times--"

"I was a little brat," agreed Edmund. "I can appreciate it more, now."

"It's strange…" I said, taking my white horse's bridle and leading out of the gate. "I've never really felt very close to you."

"Can we fix that?" Edmund met my eyes. "Eventually?"

"It's already mending." I smiled back, mounting my horse.

"Whoah!" Edmund looked up at my horse. "That is quite…a steed!" Edmund's brown horse snorted indignantly. If horses could talk in Narnia like Beavers can, I'd say he was offended.

"What do you mean?" I glanced down at the horse's head. It was a little taller than most, but I suppose…

"Whoah!" I echoed Edmund. "I'm riding a unicorn."

"Is that real?" Edmund reached up and parted the forelock of the unicorn. "It isn't glued on."

"I don't think they have glue in Narnia," I said solemnly. Edmund and I both laughed a little too loudly.

Edmund's horse bolted and ran around the edge of camp, skirting around a rock and heading for a field wrapped around some boulders.

I spurred my unicorn after him and we ran almost neck in neck.

The wind blew quickly, whistling over our heads. The hooves pounded in to the earth, resonating like a Narnian heartbeat. The ground flew by underneath like a green carpet of clouds. It was like flying.

We dashed by the girls, playing around with some targets. Edmund pulled his horse to a stop and whirled on me, and I drew my sword from its sheath.

"En guarde!" I shouted, pulling up next to Edmund and delivering a gentle blow. Edmund blocked it clumsily.

"Come on, Ed," I teased, "Sword up, like Oreius showed us."

"En guarde," repeated Edmund, showering gentle knocks to my sword tip.

"Now block," I aimed for his shoulder and he twisted back, using his wrist carefully and blocking the slash well.

I spotted Mr. Beaver padding along quickly, stopping just in front of Edmund's horse. "Peter, Edmund!" he called.

The brown horse reared, whinnying. It sounded annoyed, not frightened. I moved forward, afraid he would fall off. "Ed--" I started.

"Whoah, horsey," said Edmund, patting its shoulder. "Horsey!"

"My name is Philip," said the horse dryly, glaring at Edmund out of the corner of his eye. King or no king, I guess horses can talk back as well as a Beaver can.

I laughed outright. Edmund shrugged, "Sorry, hors—Philip."

Mr. Beaver waved his arms around to catch our attention. "Hurry, sires, the White Witch is here, and she is demanding an audience with Aslan!"

Edmund paled so fast I thought for sure he was going to faint. He slipped off his horse and led Philip backs towards camp, each step tentative and his breath short.

"Edmund," I said, sliding off the unicorn. "The horses can find their way back themselves. Let's go."

"I'll take Her," Philip offered kindly. He nipped the unicorn gently and herded her down the hill. I pulled Edmund's arm the other way and joined a forming crowd of anxious narnians.

Edmund suddenly pulled back on his arm. "P-Peter, what's going to happen?"

"I don't know!" I replied, edging him along. "But we need to find out."

"I don't want to see her again." Edmund planted his feet firmly on the ground.

"Edmund, you have been very brave thus far--"

"I am not brave," Edmund replied indignantly.

"Remember what Dad used to say?" I prompted. "Come on, Ed, you remember."

"I don't remember much of Home," said Edmund. "This place makes you forget things."

"He said…" I paused, straightening the words out in my head. "Being brave isn't the lack of fear. It's facing what you are most scared of."

"The witch," finished Edmund. He sighed and kept walking. He passed me and kept going till he stood at the front of the crowd, shivering slightly as he watched the approaching being. Susan and Lucy appeared from the fields and joined Edmund, standing on either side of him. I followed their stance and watched apprehensively as a dwarf walked into view, glaring at all those who stared.

"What is your message, Son of Earth?" said Aslan gravely.

"The Queen of Narnia requests save conduct to come and speak with you," said the dwarf. He glanced at Edmund out of the corner of his eye and sneered. Edmund's eyebrows furrowed in recognition. So they must know each other.

"Let her come," said Aslan, "Though she leave her wand behind at the oak tree."

The dwarf scuttled back to the oak tree, where we presumed she was lying in wait. After that, a litter approached, being carried by hideous Cyclops and there, in the high seat, sat the Witch.

I'd never laid eyes on someone more terrible, queenly, beautiful, frightening, and horrible all in one person. She was awful to behold. She was dressed in glorious white and a crown of golden ice. She was wrapped in firs like Father Christmas. Though, Father Christmas was dressed in fuzzy, polar bear fur, while the Witch dressed in the frozen, chilling fur that draped down her shoulders like a cape. Her eyes were blue in a pale face, and her lips looked like blood.

She stared ahead at Aslan, meeting his gaze, and seething inside with anger, but keeping a cool glance in all outward appearance. The sun grew very cold, and a stiff wind began to blow.

"Jadis, Queen of Narnia," announced the dwarf.

"You have a traitor, here, Aslan," she said coldly.

I glanced at Edmund worriedly. Edmund only took a deep breath and went on staring at Aslan.

"Well!" said Aslan. "His offense was not against you."

"Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?" said Jadis.

"Let's say I did forget it," Aslan hinted at sarcasm. "Though I was there when it was written."

"Shall I tell you?" Jadis said shrilly. "Written there on the Stone Table? The Emperor placed a Magic here, in the beginning—it be written on his Great Scepter. Every traitor is mine. Every treacherous being I have a right to KILL."

"Are you a Queen, or a Hangman?" Mr. Beaver scoffed.

"Peace, Beaver," growled Aslan.

"That Human Creature is MINE." Jadis whirled and pointed to Edmund, meeting his gaze with wintery hostility. "His blood is my property."

"Try and take him then!" completely forgetting myself and my place, I drew my sword and burned with rage against her. She could not have my brother again.

"Do you think mere force will deny me my right…little King?" the Witch said mockingly, as if she felt sorry for me. I remembered the Narnians all staring at me in fear and surprise, and took a step back, lowering my sword. I needed to watch my temper.

"You cannot work against the Emperors Magic," said Jadis. "Thus all Narnia perish in Fire and Water. He must die on the Stone Table."

"I know this." Aslan said, staring the Witch down with uttermost power. "Fall back, good Narnians…I will talk with You alone."

He turned on heel and strode into his tent. The Witch smirked and followed him inside.

And so they stayed like that for nearly an hour.

Never had I heard the camp so silent. Everyone lay in wait, trying to concentrate on something to pass the time. We sat cross-legged on the grass, vaguely wondering if Edmund had been rescued, only to be murdered by a Witch with all our knowledge of the matter and no way to stop him. Edmund stared at the ground, mad thoughts running through his head, as he ripped tufts of grass and threw them. His hands shook. None of us could say a word of comfort.

My mind began scrambling for escape plans. The Witch would announce her plan to kill him on the Stone Table, I'd only take his hand, sneak through the crowd, lead him to the horses, and then we would gallop away—I'd let him back through the Wardrobe, then I would return for the girls. Then I would come back and settle the whole matter myself—by cleanly cutting off the Witches' head with my sword. Yes…it sounded like a good plan. What about Aslan? Well…he can come too. Or better yet, he can kill the Witch with one swipe of his paw while I lead Edmund to safety. Or…maybe I should wait and see what happens. But then it could be too late. Or maybe Susan could shoot her with her arrows while I hide Edmund in the tent. Or maybe Lucy could—

Aslan came out of the tent, followed by the Witch, with a smug but frightened look on her face. All plans melted away in my head—they all seemed rather ridiculous.

"I have good news." Aslan said, in a deep, almost sad voice. "She has renounced her claim on your Brother's blood."

Edmund gasped in relief. Lucy jumped into his arms and hugged the life out of him.

"How will I know your promise will be kept?" Jadis asked, stepping into her litter.

Aslan roared, his teeth bared and his eyes glittering in rage. Jadis plopped into her seat in fright, and the Cyclops bore her away very quickly indeed.

We laughed at her. Everyone congratulated Edmund and slapped him on the back. In the back of my mind, I wondered what the Witch meant by 'your promise.' I had to thank Aslan! He was truly amazing for changing the course of the Deep Magic—

I turned. Aslan's tail slipped inside his tent. He was gone.

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**The next chapter, as we know, will be the Loss of the great ruler of Narnia. Everyone sob with me now! **

**Read and Review, or I'll make you …uh…Dangit Bobby. I've plum run out of anything to threaten ya'll with.**


	22. To be Without my Leader

**Darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you for the review as always! We shall be seeing the most exciting battle in…the next chapter! –cheers— Hey check out my new LOTR stories, if you like that sort of fandom.

**Elektrum: **Why thank-you, I'm glad you liked that. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Try my new LOTR fan fictions if you happen to like that stuff…

**Almyra: **I am so pleased you like my story! I'm glad you like how I have portrayed Oreius, he is one of the hardest characters to write because he is so grave and wise, but rash in actions and, I've found, maybe easily angered. Well, your penname rocks, lovely history, it has!

**Reepicheepet: **All right, here is the process. **Log in **to your account, go to **documents**. **Upload** a document (by **separate** chapters) and **edit/preview** for mistakes or notes to reviewers. Then, go to **Story**. Click **New Story**. They may ask you to re-state that you agree with **guidelines**. Hit **Accept Guidelines**. After that, click your **categories**, then fill in the **properties** (language, etc). **Upload **the single chapter document. When you want to **upload a chapter**, repeat the **uploading document** process. Then go to your **story**. Click **Content/Chapters**. Title the chapter, then **add the document you've uploaded**.

I hope this has been of service!

Thank-you for the ever-faithful reviews!

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**I have added two stories for Lord of the Rings, check my profile for it! They are definitely more serious than "the Lord of the Earrings". Lol.

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_**EVERYONE WISH REEPICHEEPET HAPPY BIRTHDAY!**_

_**HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REEPICHEEPET!

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**Chapter 22, To be Without my Leader**

I thought Aslan would come out of the tent to celebrate with the rest of the Narnian creatures, who began strange dances and music in their happiness. They couldn't stop talking of how happy they were that Edmund was saved by the Great Lion.

Aslan stayed in his tent for the rest of the afternoon, which confused us to no end. I confess, I hardly noticed, the partying animals (no pun intended) really wished for us to participate, so I couldn't really think of anything else. Just as some satyrs were beginning to show Lucy how to dance one of their traditional dances, Aslan emerged. The look on his face—so grave, but distracted—hushed the entire camp before he even spoke a word.

"Tonight we shall camp at the Fords of Beruna," Aslan said. "We must leave immediately."

For the next few hours, I helped everyone gather things, put them in bundles, break down the tents, package food and armory, and soon ponies, centaurs, horses, and even large rhinoceroses were laden with goods and a long march began towards a large field where a few rivers met.

As we marched, I walked with Alan's quiet footfalls down the paths through the woods. He began to solemnly outline plans for battle. One, to attack the Witch's house under siege, and Two, to meet her along the borders of the woods near the Ford.

Aslan carefully lined the details, and I asked many questions. The conversation was long…and tiring…I hardly remember much to pen for the memoirs.

Something at the back of my mind nagged and worried me. Aslan gave such careful considerations to the placements of the army and where the strong hold should be placed. Deep down, I sensed that he left himself out of the entire equation.

"Surely, you will be there yourself, Aslan?" I said in a strange voice, one that shouldn't be said no to. But could that daunt a Lion? I'm afraid not…

"I make no promise of that," Aslan said, blinking like the question made no difference to our victory or anything else that might happen. "You need to place your Centaurs upon the left flank," he continued, staring ahead.

My question remained unanswered. My fear grew.

Aslan was sad. When we reached our campsite, the mood affected all. Literally, I felt like it was hard to breath with this tight feeling in my lungs—a mix of apprehension, fear, and I don't know what else.

"Let us camp here!" announced Aslan when we arrived at the crossing.

"Shouldn't we camp over there?" I blurted. Surely he planned all this. Who was I to make a suggestion?

Aslan only prodded me to go on.

"I mean," I stuttered, "What if we camped over there? It would be much safer, should she plan an attack tonight."

"Very good," Aslan praised. "But she will not attack tonight. But that is how a King should think. But it doesn't really matter." And with that, he shuffled over to the left, and the fauns hoisted his tent, and he passed inside. I didn't see him for the rest of the evening.

I was confused. Did I do something to displease him? Maybe I wasn't treating Edmund right still. There was something wrong—we all felt it!

That evening passed slowly. I sat in the front of my tent, picking at a potato and hunk of rabbit and a bundle of grapes, whereas not really feeling like eating anything at all.

"Peter?" Susan came forward from the girls tent, pitched near Edmund's and mine, as I ordered.

"Yes?" I stuffed a grape or two in my mouth. The last thing I wanted was for her to be overly concerned with a simple lack of appetite. It happens sometimes!

"I was only going to ask you why you weren't eating anything," Susan said, eyeing my full plate. "You did get that plate an hour ago."

"This is second helping," I lied, the grape tasting sour. I forced my dry throat to swallow and produced a fake smile.

"Right." Susan only rolled her eyes. "Don't expect an argument straight-aways! I've tried to mend that. I see here it only gets me into trouble."

I coughed. "That is quite a change!"

"Oh stop," Susan said briskly. "Aslan changes you. I've worked against it, but I can't help it. I've formed some uppity-ways and rather grown-up habits--"

"Hmm hmm." I nodded, trying to eat another grape.

This one had a seed in it. Yuck.

"We've all noticed Aslan acting a little funny," Susan offered. "You aren't the only one."

And this grape was green. I hated green grapes.

"Lucy wouldn't touch her supper," Susan concluded, taking a grape off my plate and munching it herself. "I didn't try to stop her, either!"

"You've improved, Susan," I comforted. "I owe you that much. You need to enjoy being thirteen."

"Fourteen," snapped Susan. "Edmund is thirteen."

"He's twelve," I corrected.

"Right." Susan shook her head. "This fruit is especially good."

A brown grape. I hate brown grapes. I tossed it into the grass and shrugged. "The grapes taste funny."

"They're not grapes," Susan laughed, taking another one. "They're berries. Narnian berries. They're called Kingberries."

"Goodness." I tried a green kingberry. It tasted very nice indeed. "I see."

"Get some sleep," Susan took the plate from me. "It's made me sick trying to see you force yourself to eat that. It's nearly nine."

I glanced up at her. "Nine."

"Yes, nine," Susan set the plate down onto a tiny satyr's cart that passed by. "Time for bed."

"Nine!" I repeated, laughing. "I'm not going to bed at nine."

"Then you'll go earlier," Susan pushed me into my tent.

"Susan, seriously! I'm not Lucy's age, thank-you--"

"Peter," Susan protested, planting her hands on her hips. "Do you think this life is going to be ordinary? You are going to lead an army into battle tomorrow! Don't you think sleep is nesesscary?"

I sat on the hammock, stunned. It wasn't really until there it occurred to me that I would be fighting. I wasn't a fighter. I can't fight.

Susan nodded slightly, knowing I wasn't going to answer her. "Goodnight, Peter," she said, closing the tent flap.

I fell back into the hammock. Did they all really expect me to lead the battle? Fight in…armor…with a sword no less? This time it wasn't just a wolf. It could be witches, ogres, giants, wizards, goodness knows what!

Edmund entered the tent. "Peter?" he whispered loudly. "Are you asleep?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Oh." Edmund plopped into the hammock alongside mine. "Me too."

I fell asleep about two hours later, worried thoughts chasing around my head till it throbbed with exhaustion.

Hours later, avery gray light was showing through the tent sides, barely boasting of nearly two hours till dawn.

Something brushed against my face. I jumped out of a sound sleep, jerked my sword out of its sheath, and pointed it at a mass of windblown petals.

"Be still my princes," said the Dryad. "I bring word from your sisters."

"C-continue," Edmund choked, waking up quickly.

"Aslan is dead." The dryad withheld despair from her voice. "The plans are to continue. Your sisters are safe. Aslan be with us all!" and with that, she dissolved.

My heart couldn't beat for another half hour.

He couldn't be dead. He couldn't leave me with an army on the eve of battle. He can't die.

"It can't be true," I whispered hoarsly. "No!"

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**Read and review my little guinea pigs!**


	23. The Battle

**I have revised and rewritten bits and chunks of this chapter, by suggestion of a reviewer of mine who had some very smart pointers. It seems like a long time ago when I wrote this chapter and was a little rushed to write it, post it, and get reviews, so it is not the best quality. Hence the repost. **

**I know it seems stupid to ask, lol, but please…Re-Read, and Review again!**

**Pippin Baggins

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**Darkdestiny2000: **thank-you for the review! Yeah, it is more enjoyable for me to write friendliness instead of sibling rivalry. I hope you like the action in this chapter.

**Capegio: **You are all my guinea pigs, in such a way that I am testing my writing, but it is only an affectionate endearment for my readers! Lol. I'm glad you liked Philip, I was afraid he was out of character, but I am glad he wasn't!

**Elektrum: **lol, yes you are right! Peter is a stressful person. I'm afraid he's a bit more stressed in this chapter than ever! Thank-you for your faithful reviews!

**TimeMage0955: **WOW! You've followed since the very beginning? Amazing, I feel like I've uncovered an old friend, lol. Thank-you for finally reviewing, it makes me all the more appreciative. I really hope you like this chapter! I'm glad you like my story!

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**Well well well, everyone, it is finally the BIG MOMENT! Whoo hoo! Finally, (pretty much the whole reason I wrote this story because I didn't want to do a 'one-shot') we have come to the Battle. I want to thank all my reviewers for the positive and honest opinions given. Remember to always let me know if I am straying out of character, because, from here on out, the movie nor the book detail Peter's maturity and whatnot. **

**So without further to do, wish me luck, here is the next chapter!

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**Chapter 23, the Battle**

I rushed out the tent. "Aslan!" I shouted. Sleepy creatures emerged from tents, blinking in the horribly quiet gray dawn. They seemed to absorb my panicked feeling. I could see it in their eyes. _Please let it not be true…_

I reached the tent and whipped aside the curtain. It was empty.

"No!" I whispered.

A curious faun peeped in behind me, furry eyebrows raised. "Leave me," I said, staring at the empty tent. It was cold inside, the air lifeless. No one had been in here all night.

The approaching galloping sound told me Oreius had arrived. He and Edmund stood outside the tent, talking in inaudible tones. Edmund was giving the dryads message to him, he must be…devastated.

I hoped the dryad was right about the girls. They were gone, but they _said_ they were safe. But Aslan was dead. Surely that meant they were all alone! With no one to watch over them—I could only take a deep breath and put my trust in _something _that they were going to be safe. Perhaps it was just as well—what could I have done if they were here for battle? Father Christmas said they were not meant to fight in battle. Lucy shouldn't see something like that.

_God…I'm fighting in a battle today. I'm not ready._ My knees shook at the remembrance. I didn't want to fight today. _Aslan is counting on me. I don't want to be brave and chivalrous!_ Aslan didn't expect me to be. I didn't want to brandish my sword, I wanted to find Lucy and Susan. Aslan wanted his family kept safe too, could I deny him the help when he helped get Edmund back?

"Maybe she is wrong," Edmund cut into my thoughts. "Well, I mean, not that she wasn't trustworthy, but I don't know dryads very well."

"No…no…I'm afraid she's right," I walked slowly out, not meeting Oreius's inquisitive eyes. "He's gone."

"You'll have to lead us," Edmund said without hesitation.

I shook my head. I couldn't do it. _I'm almost sixteen. I'm not a soldier like Dad._

"Peter, there's an army out there ready to follow you!" Edmund said impatiently, his dark eyes boring into mine. I could barely meet his gaze.

"I can't!" I blurted.

"Aslan believed you could," Edmund said softly. "And so do I."

Since when did he trust me? He's never trusted me. Edmund has changed so much. I've been hoisted onto a pedestal I never wanted! I knew I would fail him.

"The Witches' army is nearing, sire," Oreius said gently, but firmly. "What are your orders?"

I leaned against the table and studied the map. It didn't matter what I wanted. I _promised _Aslan. Narnia was his family, and I was the new leader, whether I liked it or not. There's some who are born heroes. Then there are some who become heroes because they've died trying. I'm afraid before the sun has set I'll be in the second category.

"We'll line here," I pointed to the rock cliffs bordering a wide field that ran along the river. "We can fall back to the rocks in our defense. The griffins will go in first with the boulders they collected yesterday by order of Aslan."

"The reserves?" Oreius pointed to the map. "They could wait along this cliff. Should the attack fail, they can release the scarlet bird."

I glanced at Edmund quizzically. Sounded like an extinct display from the London Zoo.

"It turns into fire," Edmund explained quickly. How he knew this and I didn't, I've no idea.

"Edmund, you will lead the reserves," I said firmly, without a second thought. Suppose we never needed them. He wouldn't even have to fight, and my heart I think would last a few moments extra.

"I want to be with you," Edmund protested angrily, his eyes lighting up with the resistance he'd become so skilled at. "You can't leave me behind. I owe them this as much as you do."

"No." I said sternly. I wasn't going to argue with him. "That's all I have to say on the matter. My job, first and foremost, is to protect YOU. Promises to help fight come second."

Edmund huffed and folded his arms across his chest, staring intently at the map, his lips pursed as if biting back some sort of remark. His temper was controlled. I'd never really seen that before. It was…shocking.

"The centaurs will be in the lead," Oreius suggested. "The fauns upon the right flank. The Satyrs will follow."

"Yes," I said nervously, poking the left of the map. "All the swiftest animals, leopards, lions, horses—will go in front. The bulkier stronghold will bring up the rear—bears, boars, rhinoceroses, and anything else we have."

"Good plan," Edmund nodded enthusiastically. _He's still supporting me even though I told him no. He's…amazing. _

With every step planned, I felt nauseated and frightened. _Aslan—I can't really do this._

But Aslan wasn't here. Aslan's disappearance left a hollow hole inside of me. I was making the last stand for Narnia, but I knew there was no hope. Without Aslan the word hope would never exist.

"I'll be back," I muttered, staggering into the woods nearby. I walked a little further until I could only see the banners blowing in the stiff, dawn breeze.

"Peter?" called Edmund's voice, but I paid no attention. I needed to be alone.

I was probably going to die today. The horrible thought had only occurred to me a few times, but now it seemed more real than London itself ever did.

Aslan was the heartbeat of Narnia. Without him there is no victory. I was smart enough to know that, at least. But I couldn't say anything. I knew I would only despair the gentle creatures of Narnia.

I wished I could have said goodbye to Mum and Dad. I wished the girls were here with me and Edmund. I only wanted to tell them I would miss them, for ever how long I would be here.

Suddenly dropping to my knees, I coughed up bile and tried not to entirely throw up. If my stomach couldn't handle an adrenaline rush, could it handle the blood in battle?

"God?" I whispered, my stomach calming slowly. The growing sunshine turned the forest a fuzzy green colour.

"God. I don't know who I'm really talking to. God—Aslan, maybe? I know there is someone there looking out for me. I hope."

I leaned my back against a tree, and covered my face in my hands. "I know Someone is up there. Please protect the girls, where ever they are. I know I just have to trust You that they are alright."

I remembered Aslan's gentle eyes and caring, deep voice. "Aslan, I don't want to fail you. I'll do my best. Please protect Edmund—sometimes he is rash and too quick, but, I love him so much. I can't lose him again."

I looked up into the sunshine. I must sound so stupid. I'm supposed to be King of a country I'd never heard of before, and I was sitting next to a tree speaking to the sky.

I _wanted_ to cry, but I _never_ cried. Susan always said crying made you feel better, even if there was nothing wrong. What a girl! I don't know what she sees in it. I resolved, in the end, it would be very un-kingly to cry. _I can't lose it now, I've got to hold everything together. If I cry, everyone else will feel…_

"Sire," Oreius interrupted my thoughts. He trotted quietly from camp, looking so calm and full of a strength that I envied. He hardly spoke, but whenever he did, his presence almost gave me the same, calm reassurance that Aslan did.

His large, calloused hand touched my shoulder. Oreius followed my gaze into the sky and said firmly, "I know He hears you."

I slowly stretched to my feet. What should I say? Could I say anything at all?

"Thank-you," was all that came.

"Sire," Oreius turned to me and gazed at me with his hardened stare. "I serve you, first and foremost as my King. But I shall remain by your side even if duty does not call."

"You'll always be there for me?" I said, a little surprised. He was a general. Surely he had better things to do than help a kid like me. He doesn't have to feel obligated to serve me just because Aslan chose me and my family to fulfill a prophecy.

He only nodded in reply, falling mute once again. We stood there a moment, listening to the birds awaking. A long, hollow horn call erupted from camp.

"The Witch approaches," Oreius said. "The army is moving into position. I took the liberty of giving your orders."

"Let's go." I said, taking a shuddering breath, and began taking slow steps alongside the centaur.

The camp was a roar of activity. The army began a long line, marching into their places nearby. I found Edmund, already armored and waiting for me, his face set with determination. I nodded grimly to him and proceeded to put on my armor.

With every click of a buckle and every clang of the pieces of shining metal, I found myself growing more determined and resolute. So what if I died today? I would be protecting the people I love and defending a country who wanted me. What was I really afraid of: pain? No, it passes. The Witch? I don't really know, I've seen her only once.

Going on without Aslan? Yes. He supplied the strength I needed, and now the source was gone. Could I really be feeling bravery?

I suppose that feeling brave doesn't mean I cannot be scared. Bravery, in the end, is taking the courage to face something you ARE afraid of. And suddenly it was staring me in the face…I was afraid of the unknown. I always felt like I was in control, but now I had none. That is what truly scared me.

I never felt this feeling before. I always put a brave face on things and tried to make things better, but it never felt like this. I felt brave—but bravery wasn't what I thought. It felt like the first time I ever heard the name of Aslan. That feeling that is very indescribable.

I felt tense. My hands shook with apprehension, and yes, fear. I was still afraid, but it seemed more…bearable. I hugged my arms and took a deep breath, my insides threatening to spill out.

"Calm yourself," Edmund put a hand on my shoulder. "We're all nervous."

"I envy your confidence today! _Nervous_ is too light a word to use," I shrugged. "Are you ready?"

"Very." Edmund moved towards the reserves, ready to lead them into the cliffs. He turned and began to walk away. _What if a stray arrow hits him? This could be the last time I see him._

"Wait!" I said, panicked.

"What?" Edmund turned, looking at me quizzically.

"N-nothing," I stuttered. "Only…be safe, Ed, please."

"You know me," Edmund grinned, and turned and rushed to his place. The reserves turned and went into the hill, then followed the rocky path to its summit.

My unicorn was led towards me. Standing on a bucket, I hoisted myself onto her and nudged her forward.

Before I knew it, the army was trailing me as I led them through the rocks and approached the edge of the field. We were finally here. And all was quiet.

The sun edged over the mountain, blinding us momentarily. Then all was alight in a glorious, sunny morning.

Gryphon, the griffin, swooped to the rock next to me. "Gryphon," I said, "Fly ahead a bit and see how large the Witches' army is, and how close she is."

Gryphon bowed to the stone and launched himself forward, gliding across the sky, swooping low to the opposite end of the field. He careened to the left and swept across the sky. I watched him as he flew overhead and spun, then lowered himself to the ground beside me once again.

"They come, You Highness," he said, rather breathlessly. "In numbers and weapons far greater than our own."

Blast it! The Witch isn't easy on first-timers, is she?

"Numbers do not win a battle," Oreius said, firmly and almost spitefully.

"No," I agreed, "But I bet they help." They both glanced at me, wondering if my irony was supposed to be funny. Truthfully, I wasn't sure either.

I twisted around and caught a glimpse of Edmund's face. It was grim and white. He nodded, support etched in every line.

There was a ghostly sound of a horn. The approaching sound of Her army rumbled in the distance. The edge of the field, on a slight embankment, was soon covered in small specks. The specks were her soldiers. Large creatures and creatures that looked pin-sized gathered along the edge, like an added ruffle to a large blanket. I could hear the growls and hoots of those hellish creatures. There was so many of them!

The line broke, and her army began making its way across the field.

I drew my sword and pointed it forward, the signal for the griffins to move in. I remembered the air raids from back in England. It would be perfect—if it could destroy London, it could destroy the Witch, couldn't it?

The griffins flew overhead, cawing in shrieks like eagles on wing. They threw the boulders to the approaching army. Even from where I stood, I could see it did little damage.

It was time to move in.

"Are you with me?" I asked Oreius, my nerves calming so fast I thought it was because I was only waking from a nightmare.

"To the death," he replied, his gaze never faltering.

I had to do this. And I had to do it _now_.

"For Narnia!" I shouted, raising my sword above my head. "And for Aslan!"

The eruption of an echoing cry was released, and my unicorn reared in its readiness. I spurred it forward.

The wind rushed passed me, making it hard to concentrate. The thousands of hooves pounding into the ground thundered along behind me. I put the visor to my helmet down, barely being able to see past what was straight ahead. Oreius drew his swords.

Barely making out the sounds and senses around, the air went mute and I could only hear the pounding of my own heartbeat.

With a horrible crash and dazzling horrendous explosion of sound and blood, my senses felt sharp and raw, my mind unable to comprehend anything but movement and killing.

I slashed blindly this way and that, my insides shuddering at the sounds of my sword coming in contact with another's body and heads being whipped off by my blade. I spun my unicorn around and stabbed inwards to a mob of Cyclops that were busily swarming into a pair of satyrs. My unicorn leaped ahead, crushing a fallen dwarf under her hooves. I cried aloud, not even knowing what I was saying—or if I was only shouting with the acceleration of emotion and physical exhaustion as the attack was slowly failing.

A burst of light nearly blinded me. I strained to see through my helmet. At last, I could bear the blasted thing no longer. I pulled the visor up and observed the flash of orange overhead. The scarlet bird foamed over, wings widespread in flame. The flame carved a flaming wall between us and enemy.

With a loud cry, some began to cheer. A wash of blue light and the sound of cracking stone deafened our ears as the Witch herself approached, having used her wand to crack the wall of fire.

"Fall back!" I shouted, my unicorn diving back. "Fall back to the rocks!" I waited until I was sure everyone had heard my signal. Bringing in the rear, I galloped madly after my troops. The ground sped underneath me as the unicorn ran blindly across the plain. The cliffs drew nearer. Edmund signaled the reserves to come in. Oreius was already in the cliffs, galloping like the speed of light. They were closer. How long had we been fighting? I lost track. An hour? Two minutes?

I wanted to get back in the rocks—they were protected, we'd have the advantage. My mind was sick with the thoughts whirling in lazy circles. I was a murderer. I was a warrior. I didn't feel good about it, the fear was squelched, but I wished it were over.

_Just a little farther. Then shelter. We'll regroup. Just a little…bit…farther…_

We reached the first cliff. The unicorn leapt into the outcropping, her sides heaving with exhaustion. Sweat ran from her bulging muscles in a fine mist behind us. She was losing her strength—so was I.

Time began to slow. In only the space of a second, I saw an arrow headed from the cliff top. It pierced the shoulder of my unicorn. The Unicorn stumbled for a second and lurched forward, her head crushed under her own body as she was thrown to the ground with the intense piercing of a poisoned arrow.

I fell forward and was launched over the neck of the unicorn and thrown the ground. The impact of me hitting the ground jarred my body.

Time sped again. My breath came in haggard breaths. _I have to get up._ I stumbled to my knees, blinking stupidly in the light, which seemed more intense than before. _My helmet's gone! No wonder! _My head pounded, my body throbbed. I shook my head, trying to gather my senses. It knocked the wind out me, I felt like I'd forgotten how to breath. My legs wouldn't work. _Stand. Fight. Sword. Get up, you idiot!_

I jumped to my feet, each muscle protesting. Oreius appeared before me, at a gallop so fast I only barely had time to yell, "STOP!" just as he passed me by, a rhinoceros close behind him. The wind lashed my side as Oreius killed the leading Minotaur and leapt towards the approaching Witch. The rhinoceros collapsed to the ground in a sudden heap. Oreius jumped over it, then over the Witch, aiming a death blow that would have beheaded her. She ducked and threw her arm forward. Suddenly, Oreius was frozen, in a half rear with his sword poised over his head, only a statue of stone.

"No!" I shouted, stumbling back a step. A Minotaur twice my size jumped into me, his weapon swinging. It caught the armor in my side before I could step aside. I gaped with its impact and twisted, driving my sword into his flesh. The Minotaur fell with a groan. I ran back towards the rocks, killing whatever beast lay in front without hardly a thought. Trying to catch my breath, each one racked my body. I desperately looked around. Where was Edmund?

Edmund was near the rock. He saw me. I could see him.

"Edmund!" I shouted. "There's too many!" a Cyclops made a grab for my head with his claws. I cleanly swept his arm away from his shoulder. "Get the girls!" I cried, stabbing his heart as he lay helpless. "And get them home!"

I turned, begging that he, for once, would listen to me. I was caught in the arm by something large. A Minotaur plunged his weapon at me again and again as I struggled under his weight to overcome his attack.

Suddenly, something made me turn. Edmund was facing the Witch. _What are you doing? You have to get out of here!_

The Witch knocked the sword from his hand. I tried to run up the hill and stumbled.

_No! Stop! God, save him…_

She plunged her sword into his belly. Edmund clutched himself with a gasp.

"Edmund!" I screamed, but my throat was so hoarse no sound came out.

The colour faded from his face as his eyes briefly caught mine. He closed his eyes, crumpling to the ground...and lay still.

_Dead. _

_He can't be dead. _

_Edmund...I never said I loved you...I'm sorry..._

With a last yell, I killed the Minotaur and ran blindly uphill, clumsily swinging my sword this way and that. The Witch leapt around, an evil smile spread across her white features.

She killed Edmund.

_I will kill you! I WILL KILL YOU!_My heart was beating so hard that it hurt, pulsing against my ribs as if it wished to give out on me right then. Pictures of my mother and father flashed in my head—how could I tell them? Susan and Lucy, too! There couldn't be just three of us! _My brother is dead!_

I yelled incoherently and swung my sword at the bloody Witch. She was smiling. It made me sick. She kept smiling and smiling. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to watch my blade give her the same fate as Edmund. She couldn't live now. Not after this.

Bent on revenge, hate filling me with a rage I never thought I could have. It fed an adrenaline strength into my arms, bringing my weapon into hers with harsh force.

She retaliated brutally, possessing an inhuman strength I didn't think such a weak, pale thing could have. She fought hard…ever smiling. It was sickening. _Murderer! Murderer! _I thought over and over.

The Witch swiped at me, the edge of her sword catching me across the forehead. I fell backwards, putting a hand to my forehead instinctively. I glanced at her, almost curiously. She was STILL SMILING. I'd do anything to wipe that twisted display of happiness off of her head. _I'd really do anything to wipe her head AWAY right now!_

I jumped at her, shouting nothing at all and grunting with the acceleration of the heat and pain beating in my head. She blocked professionally, stepping out of the fight momentarily, regarding me like a butcher examines a cow before killing it.

I rushed her, flinging my blade clumsily, not really caring wear it landed, as long as it did some damage.

The witch knocked my blade aside, crossed her swords, slicing them over my neck. I cried aloud and leaned backwards, feeling the rush of air at the closeness of the scissor blades. I ducked under and aimed for her, pausing for a moment. She had stepped away again, appraising my looks. I was tired, yes. But I wasn't ready to back down.

The witch sensed it. Her gaze faltered for a second, I fought to keep the fire inside me and the heat in my face from exploding into pure suicide—driving towards her without careful consideration of HER next moves.

She slashed at me again, I blocked it—the move was rough, it knocked me off balance. She could have killed me then…but she didn't.

Instead, she froze. Pure fear whitened her features even more. She looked over my shoulder.

A roar resonated into the air.

I glanced behind me. _How could it be? He had abandoned us. It's a ghost. It can't be._

Aslan had _returned._

Hope like never before filtered into me, making me freeze completely in my complete and utter shock. Hope. I'd forgotten it. It was back.

Behind the Great Lion—radiating gold and sunshine all around him—there was Susan. And Lucy!

And still yet behind them, another army appeared. Ragged and few—but enough to win this. Each face was set in stone with determination. _My God…we're actually going to make it. I know it now! I can feel it! _

"Impossible!" cursed the Witch.

_Oh, I forgot about you. Perhaps I'll still kill you. The sight of Aslan makes me think of forgiveness…but while I still have my sword…_

The pause was broken. The Witch turned on me with strong vengeance, strength emitting from every harsh stroke. Preparing for her brutal attacks for my neck and head, I was unprepared for her to dive under, swipe at my leg and bring it out from under me. Me and my heavy armor crashed to the ground, unable to stand. My ankle seared in pain.

I tried to feebly block her next blow, but with a clang my sword was only knocked aside.

And again, she smiled. Her eyes looked yellow against her snowy face, her wicked lips as red as the blood she craved.

The Witches' blade pierced my armor and was driven into my arm.

I cried out and struggled, the skin ripping away and the feeling of dizziness evading my brain. My eyes blurred. _No! It wasn't supposed to end like this! I can't leave the girls alone, not without Edmund to take care of them in my stead. Blast it, you cursed witch. I swear…_

The Witch prepared to stab me in the heart, pulling back and poising for her strike in a snakelike manner.

_She's going to finish me off for good. _I wondered if it would hurt. Would I pass into the afterlife quickly? Would I suffer in darkness for a few moments, then be blessed by the golden light that Aslan brought with his timely arrival?

I gasped in pain and convulsed, waiting for the intense feeling of a blade in my heart. I suppose it would hurt a little. My heart beat thumped hard against my chest.

The sting never came. The Witch looked up, sudden shock appearing. A flash of gold swept overhead. Aslan leapt over me and knocked the Witch the ground. They rolled over the grass, the Witch finally pinned—her sword falling away from reach—with Aslan snarling deafeningly over her face. For a moment they stopped, regarding each other. _That's the end of Her. Aslan won't let her live. _He growled ferociously, lunging towards her.

I turned my face away. There was a horrid sound, and I dared to look. The Lion was stepping away from a shrunken body. The Witch coiled up into the blackish cloud shaped like a snake, then faded into complete non existence. A simple dust hung in the air...then a wind came. The wind blew it away.

The Witch was dead.

I reached over and clutched the handle, pulling the sword out of me and flung it away. My arm hanging at my side, I leapt to my feet in a sudden surge of adrenaline. The army, running to our aide, became a blur past me. Nausea and a chill crept over me when Aslan turned and faced me.

Aslan looked into my eyes, every feature giving nothing way, only assuring me with his presence. _I was wrong to want revenge, Aslan. I'm sorry. I should have waited…I should have trusted you. _

I didn't understand why _he_ was here. I didn't know why _I_ was here. But that's what faith is. I just have to trust him, he knew me better than I knew myself. The sounds of battle was fading, it was ending. I didn't think I could do it…but here I am.

I felt faint and leaned against the rock, never tearing my eyes from Aslan. We'd won. I was still alive… Aslan was here, in the flesh, in golden glory.

Aslan was really, truly alive. _It is finished._

Fear, bravery, any emotions I felt melted away in an indescribable feeling of something. Joy, perhaps. No…relief. Gratitude.

The battle was finally over.

Firm thoughts, in a cloak of Aslan's voice resonating through my mind, I heard the words of confirmation that I already knew, but longed to hear. _Son of Adam…it is finished!_

Aslan's voice was more rich and deep than I ever remembered…as he said…calmly, again, like a great conqueror of storms.

"It is finished."

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**Well guys, whaddya think? I put more emotion, heat, hatred, and surreal feelings throughout, and also heightened the sword fight details. Also, I added in the description of the Witch approaching, which I carelessly left out the first time. Please, READ AND REVIEW! I would like to provoke tears and shivers like one of the previous reviewers said she received. Please try to read this while listening to "The Battle" from the soundtrack two or three times during the time spent. It really helped me in writing it. I think I'll post this as a one-shot too. ANYWAY,**

**R AND R as usual!**


	24. The Aftermath

**Seronothenin: **Whoah, I'm pretty much speechless too, wow, what complements! I'm so pleased you like it so much, Thank-you! I'm so glad you reviewed and told me what you think. I really hope you continue to read the progress. Again, thank-you for the review! It means a lot!

**TimeMage0995: **I'm so glad you enjoyed this chapter. It's a little worrisome for me hoping I wrote his thoughts in a realistic sort of way, I'm pleased that I didn't mess up—especially for this chapter, which I've deemed the most important one. Thank-you so much for your review!

**Capegio: **You are absolutely right. Edmund was a brilliant little chap going for her wand, instead of the witch strait-on. I plan on using the quote from Peter to Aslan in this chapter, actually. Thank-you for the review!

**Elektrum: **Thank-you for your review very much! I'm so glad that you liked this chapter. Oh, and I'm glad you liked the prayer, too, you never know how someone feels about God and Aslan being, well, pretty much the same character. Thank-you tons!

**Almyra: **I am so glad you liked the chapter. Yeah, I'm glad you liked that little Edmund moment—its been hard for me to write Edmund with a lighter side, him being so depressive and angry in the beginning. I'm glad it worked. ;-) Thank-you for your review!

**Darkdestiny2000: **Thank-you. I'm so pleased you liked this chapter. I'm also glad you like all my details, I'm afraid some grow tired of me being a very detail-ish person. ;-) Thank-you so much for your review! Oh, btw, which quote is your favorite?

**Reepicheepet: **I'm so happy you liked it so much. That part about C.S. Lewis improving it is quite a complement! (to me, that is ;-) I deem C.S. Lewis the Writing Master. Hehe)

Who is Brian Davis? That's the name of one of my old high school teachers.

I see "cheese" has been added to "chocolate". Is this a new favorite? –wink wink—

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**Chapter 24, the Aftermath**

As the last sounds of weapons clashing died away, Aslan approached me, his large paws making no sound as he picked his way over bodies lying here and there. He held out his paw, by way of shaking hands. I clasped his in mine and felt the soft, velvet pads on my palm and the hard claws barely pricking through.

"I can't believe it," I whispered. We released hands, but the tingling feeling stayed behind in my hand and made me shiver. I touched him—he really was alive. It was no ghost or vision.

Aslan looked upon me, a hint of a smile but looking graver than ever. "Well done, Son of Adam," he said deeply, his voice changed a bit but as rich as the glorious morning.

"It was all Edmund's doing, Aslan," I said, memories sharp in my mind, but gradually blurring into screams and swordplay. "I told Edmund to go home, but he wouldn't do it. He broke the Witches' wand—I see that now—I didn't realize, at first,"

I was rambling, but Aslan seemed to understand. My words rather tripped over another as I tried to explain the procedures. I was relieved to be interrupted by my sisters.

I'd never seen a sight so beautiful than my sisters running up to me, covered in smiles and leaping into my arms. I held them close and never, ever, wanted to let them out of my sight again.

"Where's Edmund?" Susan pulled back, another serious look crossing her face.

Realization struck me.

The Witch killed Edmund.

In the heat and anger of battle, in the amazement of Aslan's return, I had forgotten. I knew, this time, in all the worry or doubt—I really had failed. But it wasn't Mum, Dad, or Aslan. I failed Edmund.

"Edmund," I whispered hoarsely. I turned and ran blindly towards the place where the Witch had plunged her sword into him. I remembered him clutching his belly and closing his eyes. Then he opened them one last time, and met my horrified gaze. Then he crumpled to the ground and lay still.

I could see the bright red cloth over his mail before I could really see him. Movement to the left caught my attention. A crippled dwarf, rasping with sickening glee, struggled towards Edmund and raised an axe over his head, preparing to take care of what was left of him.

"No!" I cried.

"Edmund!" screamed Susan, fitting an arrow to the string so quickly it startled me when the dwarf fell dead with its shaft in his heart.

"Edmund," I cried, falling to my knees.

Edmund was alive.

Holding his hand gingerly over the wound with his left, his right hand grasped the grass, clutching it trying to focus on an outlet for the intense pain.

He couldn't see us, his eyes were blurred. Each haggard breath he managed to squeeze from his lungs racked his body and he gasped as Susan unlatched his helmet and pulled it away from his head. Lucy only knelt next to him and sobbed.

There was blood all over his side, and his face was so white I thought we were losing him. I silently begged the higher above for him just to hold on a moment longer. But I knew there was nothing we could do to save him.

"Quick, Lucy," Aslan said, almost sternly as if she had disregarded a command. Lucy glanced up, her eyes wide in astonishment. She clutched the bottle hanging from her belt and twisted off the top. I realized that it was the cordial that Father Christmas had given her! Surely Edmund could be saved now.

Lucy poured a tiny drop into his mouth and pulled back, shutting the bottle and leaning into his face expectantly.

Edmund stopped moving. The gasping breathing faded away. We were too late.

Without even really realizing it, I was crying. No—not crying—sobbing. I never cried, I wasn't the type. I'd kept myself from doing it through this emotional whirlwind of events, and I hadn't shed a tear.

This time there was a difference. I didn't—really—care.

I hid my face and sobbed harder than I ever thought possible.

Then Edmund coughed. And then he opened his eyes. And then he looked at me.

I tried to remember the last time I had hugged him—it all seemed long ago now. He was ten, I think…he had broken his toe. He was very sad and in pain. I hugged him.

He was alive!

I grabbed his shoulders and pulled into my arms, burying my face in his shoulder, sobbing my stupid head off. I enveloped him in a hug that seemed to make up for nearly years of never hugging my only brother. I couldn't believe he was actually alive, and laughing in my ear.

I jerked back and sobbed through a smile of bottomless happiness. "When are you going to learn to do as your told?"

Edmund smiled back at me, then he leaned in for another hug. This time, I wrapped my arms around Lucy and Susan in the mix. We could only sit there for a moment—once I remembered how to cry I had forgotten how to stop—and sobbed. But this time we were all together. And it didn't matter if I didn't look brave or mature, we had each other. Safe and sound and that was all that mattered!

"There are others in need of healing," Aslan smiled gently, bringing a beautiful ending to a wonderful moment.

"Hold on a second," Lucy said distractedly.

"Lucy," Aslan said, "Must more die for your brother?"

"I'm sorry," Lucy agreed quickly, taking up her cordial with a delightful smile on her face, then took off up the hill and leaned over nearby bodies, giving many a drop of cordial. Many people were saved that day because of Lucy.

"Well done, Son of Adam," Aslan bestowed the same, gentle reward onto Edmund.

"Thank-you," Edmund stuttered. "But, how did, I mean, we thought you were--"

"Can you stand, Edmund?" Aslan continued without blinking an eye.

"I don't know," Edmund struggled a second. I lifted him halfway and he kneeled in front of Aslan. "Not quite. I feel sore, but I think I'm fine."

"This is fine," Aslan said with a little touch of humor. "You cannot stand if you wish to be knighted."

"Knighted?" Edmund grinned like a boy at Christmas. "Like, Sir Peter—the whole Wolf-Bane…thing?"

"Rise," Aslan said with joy emitting from his great smile.

"Sir Edmund Wand-Crest. That is in honor for defending the army and sacrificing yourself to destroy Her wand."

"Thank-you," said Edmund, bowing. His face was enough for any one to see he was happy beyond all reason. With help on Susan's arm, he found he could stand. Aslan allowed us to wait with him a few moments, and within those moments, he could walk and pick up his sword and re-sheath it.

"What should I do now, Aslan?" I asked. The army was restless.

"What should you do?" Aslan repeated, looking hard into my face.

"We need to…clean up." The thought occurred to me quickly. "We should get these foul…things…off this beautiful Narnian hill."

"That is a good idea." Aslan nodded and lumbered off in the direction of the field. "I shall be restoring the Statues to their proper place among the living."

I began to give orders. "Send the second reserves towards the field, they shall pile the carcasses and burn them. Line the dead Narnians. We will give them proper burials."

And we worked on this all day.

We named the rocky cliff Battle Crest, a memorial to those who died. The mounds of fresh dirt and engravings made by the dwarves marked the places where they lay. The carcasses of the Witches' army were burned, then the ashes buried.

The survivors who begged for mercy were sent away, to return to their own lands. Aslan breathed onto them before they left, and forevermore they bore a mark on their wrist that meant they had agreed never to assault the Narnians again, and that they were under the mercy and protection of the King.

Around five 'o clock that evening, I dropped in a heap near our make-shift camp, and fell asleep with my back against a tree.

I awoke when it was dark, with Susan leaning over me.

"There," she said, pulling back.

"Drew a mustache on me while I slept?" I joked, groaning and sitting up.

"No, I bandaged your stupid head," Susan smiled. "Someone's got to take care of YOU, you know, while you take care of everyone else."

"Thank-you," I poked the bandage covering the right of my forehead where the Witch had knocked me with the point of her blade.

"Supper is being served," Susan said, patting my right arm.

"Ouch," I said.

"What?" Susan's eyebrows furrowed. She grasped my sleeve and pulled it up over the bloodied wound. "Awful," she exclaimed. "When were you going to find time to fix this?"

"I forgot about it," I protested. "I'm not hiding anything."

Susan wrapped my arm diligently.

"Now help me up," I said, holding my hand out to her.

"No." Susan crossed her arms over her chest. "Do it yourself."

Isn't that just like a girl? Stubborn. And annoying.

"Just help me up," I frowned. "Do it."

"No." Susan grinned wickedly. "I thought you weren't hiding anything."

"I'm not," I took a shuddering—yes, shuddering—breath and launched myself to my feet. Glaring at Susan, I limped away.

"Ha!" Susan said gleefully, catching up to me. "Go to bed. Your tired and you have a bruise and cut on your ankle the size of Big Ben."

I bowed sarcastically. "Fare thee well, good Queen Susan."

"Goodnight, fair brother," mocked Susan, curtseying.

"Where is Edmund?" I asked.

"He is already asleep in bed, where he is supposed to be. I've bandaged him up so tightly that he cannot breath."

"I'm…sure that is…effective?" I grinned.

"And Lucy is with Mr. Tumnus," Susan smiled. "He is playing a flute and singing her to sleep."

"Mr. Tumnus!" I exclaimed. "They rescued him from the Witch, then?"

"Aslan did," Susan smiled softly. "I'd never seen Lucy so ecstatic! You will meet with him tomorrow, won't you?"

"First thing in the morning," I said, pulling the curtain back on my tent. Edmund was snoring loudly.

"Goodnight, Su," I said.

"Goodnight, Pete," said Susan.

I hate that nickname! She knows I hate it!

"If I could run right now," I said threateningly.

"You can't," laughed Susan, more carefree and happy than I had ever seen her. And with that, she vanished into her own tent.

I went inside my tent and laid awake for a long while. It seemed hard to shake the sounds of screaming and battle from my head.

Then I head the soft music from Mr. Tumnus next door. And then I fell asleep and slept till the bugle rang into the sunny, warm morning.

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**Read and Review! If you do, I think I'll "knight" you all in honor of C.S. Lewis and make thee all members in...in...the Order of Narnia Fandom. **


	25. Cair Paravel, part one

**To All my Reviewers: **There is a rumor going about that replying to my faithful reviewers is against the rules. Until I can research this, I will leave you all a message.

Thank-you for your reviews, they are all SO appreciated, I Knight thee all by Order of Narnian Fandoms. ;-)

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**Chapter 25, Cair Paravel, part one**

The sun streamed through my tent flap and the bugle rang in the morning. It felt good to awake to a normal day—no war, no witches, nothing—and find that Narnia was feeling its first, gentle rainfall in nearly a hundred years.

The sun streamed grandly, lighting the earth from some unknown place. The sky was black with clouds that sprinkled a fresh, dewey rain. Some ran under shelter and watched it in wonder, some ran out and danced in it.

Edmund followed me out, grinning at the ring of fauns that began a strange little dance in a particularly rainy place. Lucy was among them, clasping hands with a little red faun in a scarf, and dancing.

"That's Mr. Tumnus," Edmund pointed. "The one dancing with Lucy."

"He's just like I imagined him," I smiled. "I want to thank him. He protected Lucy her first time, here, remember?"

"He did," Edmund said. His voice sounded a little stiff.

"What's wrong?" I said, turning towards him. "Is your wound bothering you?"

"There isn't any wound," Edmund frowned. "It's nothing. Only…only some memories come back to haunt you sometimes, do they not?"

"Yes," I said carefully. I glanced back at Mr. Tumnus. I decided the best thing to do was to drop the subject.

"Mr. Tumnus," called Edmund, motioning to him and Lucy.

"Edmund," said Lucy excitedly, she tugged Mr. Tumnus and brought him over to us. His hooves twitched as if he wanted to continue to dance, but he had a smile on his face.

"These are my brothers," Lucy said excitedly. "Edmund and Peter."

Mr. Tumnus nodded to Edmund. "We've met," he bowed low to both of us.

"I want to thank you," I said to Tumnus. "You did so much for Lucy."

"Merely a trifle," Tumnus said humbly. "It isn't very hard to do something for this one, is it, now?"

Edmund nodded, gulping. I glanced at him, wondering what was the matter.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tumnus," he said finally. "If there is anything I can do, to make up for what I had done--"

"It's best not to bring it up," Mr. Tumnus said quickly, bowing again and nodding, his hooves inching from side to side. "What's done is in the past. You're different now, Aslan is here—you know, I mean, things will be all right now."

I was getting more and more confused, as was Lucy. We only watched the ongoing exchange.

"I do hope you will forgive me," Edmund said, reaching out his hand.

"Of course, of course," said Tumnus, grasping his hand. Instead of shaking it, he swung it from side to side. Smiling and nodding, he trotted back into the dancing group of fauns.

"That…must be a Narnia handshake, I suppose," Edmund said, breaking the following silence. Lucy and I didn't expect him to explain, so we said nothing further.

"A Narnian handshake?" Lucy giggled. "You have so much to learn!" and with that, she trotted off, almost in faun fashion, and went into her tent.

Within the hour, we ate breakfast, broke up the camp, and began a march to Cair Paravel.

I remembered the glistening reflection of many windows of the great castle, but I had only seen it from a mountain top—with Aslan by my side, before I'd even thought we were the ones to fill in the prophecy. It all seemed long ago now.

I wondered what the castle looked like up close.

It should be wonderful.

We marched all morning and into the afternoon. When we were so exhausted that we thought we could go no further, a tower emerged from the tops of the trees. The tower was followed by two more. And then some turrets. And then a rooftop.

When we rounded the bend, the most beautiful castle I'd ever seen emerged from the shoreline.

The first thing we smelled was the sea. The salty, tangy breeze flapped the banners blowing, and the cry of seagulls echoed above the clouds. Cair Paravel was the color of worn shell and rock, with living vines and trees growing around, among, and in it. Each and every window was open—tall windows of the clearest glass, as if they were made of water.

With a flash of sparkle in the sea, we saw tails burst with a splash and a group of merman and mermaids swam busily, singing something in a watery-sort of language, welcoming its Kings and Queens' home.

Lucy and Susan gasped in rapturous delight, and Edmund's jaw found itself upon the ground. I reached over playfully and closed his mouth.

"This is our home now," I said to him, "We'll have to get used to it, eh?"

"No…joke…" Edmund stuttered, beholding the castle that was like the nicest kind in England times three or more.

And the inside was more than we imagined. It never felt as if we went indoors. Open air balconies and windows and porches provided ongoing sunlight and a fresh wind coming from the ocean. Vines grew up the pillars of marble, and floor was so shining we could see our reflection in it—it was like walking on water. Wafting, white curtains hung in the sills, and woven tapestries depicting stories hung from banisters and halls. Swords, trumpets, and more were hung along with chandeliers of incredible size.

And so many people! Fauns, satyrs, talking ravens, and all others scuttled about, ready to do our bidding and preparing a feast in the banqueting hall.

Aslan led the way through the main doors, and said to a nymph, "Show the Royalty to their bedrooms, and allow them to clean up. Fetch their ceremonial clothes—we have a coronation to prepare."

In all the hustle and bustle, we were driven along in crowds till we were dropped off in individual rooms—Edmund's and mine on one side of a green hall, Susan and Lucy's on the other. At least we were close to each other.

My room was…amazing. I can't describe the utter shock I felt—it was so fancy. The bed was nearly eleven feet high, the ceiling even higher. A window looked right out to the ocean and the east. Everything was rich in color and furniture and woods of all sorts with gold embroidered on everything.

"This can't be my room," I said shortly. "It's too good."

The nymph only bowed humbly. "I apologize, sire, but it is your room."

"Wow," I said.

The nymph looked confused and pointed to a doorway across from the bed. "That is the closet, sire, you'll find your coronation clothes and things to freshen up with."

She departed, and I found that the "closet" so-called, was also a bathroom, a closet, and somewhat of an armory. I found my coronation clothes easily enough—they were hanging from the wall with a glass door over it—it must be important.

It be too boring to discuss everything that went on, I daresay I'd put Susan to sleep if I rambled on and on.

The coronation, however, was most wonderful.

Aslan met us at the door, looking over our appearances and nodding in agreement, and said, "Let the Kings be on my left, and the Queens be on my right."

I tripped over Edmund's foot, crashed to the left, and steadied myself quickly before any curious subjects inquired over my sanity.

"What do we do now?" Lucy asked, fiddling with her beautiful dress. Susan looked radiant, as if she could dance. Though Susan always said dancing was preposterous. Edmund looked bashful. I forgot to look in the looking-glass. I'd hoped I didn't forget to wash my face…

"Just let me lead you," Aslan said, almost making it sound like he was teaching a lesson along with his instructions. "When we reach the steps, sit in your thrones."

"All…right," Lucy said.

The doors opened.

Trumpets blared.

I don't think anything else was visible other than four, bright smiles that spread so it covered every other feature.

Centaurs stood to attention, crossing their swords over our path. It seemed too splendid for just four kids, like us.

Before I knew it, we were seated in our thrones, and our dear Beavers were hustling along behind Mr. Tumnus, looking handsome in his new scarf, and distributed out our crowns.

And, officially, the coronation began.

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**My dear readers, the story will be continued eventually. I'm leaving for a camping trip tomorrow and will return by the Lords Day. (that being Sunday –wink wink—) I'll update sometime after that. Have patience my dears!**

**I'll return soon!**

**(Part Two of "Cair Paravel" will be the next, upcoming chapter)**

**Sorry if this one was a little boring. **


	26. Cair Paravel, part two

**Good afternoon, my sea anemones! (sorry, I'm in a weird mood) Here is part two of Cair Paravel, coming a bit earlier than expected, because the camping trip, I found, will not occur until two in the afternoon. Isn't lucky for me!

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**Note: In the movie, the fox was there for the coronation. Not so in my story, he will come into play later… ;-)**

**Also, in the first Preview for the movie that ever came out, they show Peter DANCING with like, this hot blonde girl after the coronation. As we all know, THAT scene never appeared in the movie. There are some bloopers from it, however, on the DVD set. I'll touch on that a little in this chapter.

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**Yes, Almyra, you're absolutely right—the mark they bear was slightly based on Cain bearing the mark…of…I think it was a murderer, I'd have to read that again. **

**And to Anorwen, I seriously laughed INCREDIBLY hard when I realized my misprint. That would be funny if they distributed the royal scarves, huh? Well, if you'd like to look back to chapter 25, I've fixed the mistake. ;-)**

**Well, Capegio, as long as you promise to behave yourself and not become an OC…I think I have a surprise for you in the NEXT chapter which I'll post Sunday or Monday. **

**In fact…

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**I dedicate this chapter to Capegio, my very first reviewer ever! (can you BELIEVE there is almost a hundred reviews now?)

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**Chapter 26, Cair Paravel, part two**

The radiant sun streamed through the glass as we walked up the steps and stood before our appropriate thrones.

"To the glistening eastern Sea, I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant." Aslan's voice boomed over the crowd, his voice like a wave crashing to shore.

Lucy beamed and almost giggled. Tumnus placed the crown on her head and shared a look with her.

"To the Great Western Wood, I give you King Edmund, the Just."

Edmund took deep breaths and shivered in excitement, barely keeping still. Tumnus put the crown on his head and smiled joyfully.

"To the radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, and Gentle."

Tumnus placed the crown on her head, and Susan gave a…well, gentle….smile.

"And to the Clear Northern Sky, I give you King Peter, the Magnificent," Aslan continued. I shivered with pleasure and bent my head so that Tumnus could place the crown easily on my head. With the lightweight of the crown came the feeling of responsibility.

It was a heavy responsibility.

But it felt…good!

"Once a King or Queen in Narnia," said Aslan softly, turning and looking at us each in turn. "Always a King or Queen in Narnia."

The whole room erupted into cheers and cries. It made me laugh aloud. What would anyone back at home thought if they saw this?

Ceremony ended pleasantly, and everyone jumped to their feet. The nimble-hoofed animals danced over to the tables and began serving the banquet.

We (that being me and my siblings) were seated at a long, long table, with Tumnus and the Beavers sitting in places of honor.

We sat, and ate, and laughed, and watched the dancing fauns and singing dryads. Everything was so colorful and fast, hours past without anyone noticing.

There was a slight clatter of hooves on the marble. Without letting anyone notice me leaving, I rose and quietly stole towards the noise.

"Oreius!" I exclaimed, seeing him with a few other centaurs, all talking and chuckling in a circle.

"Sire," he bowed low, but he did not meet my eyes.

"Oreius," I said, gratification going to burst any second. "I—I didn't see you, after the battle, and I wondered—

"We were sent ahead to forewarn the castle staff," Oreius said gravely, "To prepare for Your Majesties."

"oh," I said in a small voice. There was a silence. The other centaurs looked at me strangely.

"I just wanted to tell you," I began, my voice more confident than I felt. "You…you were amazing on the battlefield. I wanted to thank-you for being there for me. And…and I'm sorry, I mean, I'm very thankful…"

Oreius held up a hand, keeping me from embarrassing myself further. Why can girls always manage to say what they want at all the right times?

"I understand, Sire," Oreius looked long and hard at me. And there was almost a hint of a smile.

"Thank-you," this time, I bowed to him. The other centaurs opened their mouths in astonishment.

Then I left them alone, and hurried to join my siblings. I never reached them, though.

A tall, blonde—thing…I suppose, some sort of naiad, swooped upon me, took my hands, and pulled me to the dance floor.

"Dance with me, Sire," she giggled.

I felt the sudden urge to tell her I need to go sleep in my royal bedroom and had no time for dancing, but she wouldn't let me get in a word edgewise. She giggled, most of all, laughed, and pulled me around the floor in a smooth gait with the other dryads and fauns. It felt like hours, but I only danced for song or two. Finally I bowed to her, and tried to speak in my most gracious voice,

"Thank-you, Madam, for that uplifting….dance. I must return to my…uh…royal brother and sisters."

She curtseyed and giggled…again. "And thank-YOU, King Peter!" she said.

"We'll have to do it again sometime," I said, trying to be polite. I could have kicked myself in the stomach if my leg would go that far.

"Of course!" cried the naiad, skipping away.

I stumbled back to the table and tiredly lowered myself in my place.

"Took you long enough," Susan hissed. "Everyone was wondering where you went."

Thinking of Oreius, I muttered in a low voice, "Well, I had a little…business…to take care of."

"Did business have something to do with a tall, blonde, naiad?" Edmund's voice came muffled from his goblet.

"Why, Peter!" exclaimed Susan.

"Is Peter getting married?" asked Lucy, butting in quickly.

"No!" Susan and I exclaimed at the same time. Edmund exclaimed, "Yes!" at the same moment.

"I see," Lucy rolled her eyes.

Thankfully, the subject was dropped, but I could look none of them in the eyes for a moment or more.

It was some time later when I realized Aslan was gone. And Lucy had disappeared as well.

Fearing the worst, but knowing deep down that it had to come sometime—I found Lucy in a balcony, being comforted by Mr. Tumnus.

"Whatever is the matter?" I said.

Lucy kept one hand in Mr. Tumnus' strong grip, with the other hand she clasped mine and led me forward.

"Aslan is gone," she said in a hollow voice. "It was Time."

"I see." I said sorrowfully. She was right. It was time.

But I didn't even get to say goodbye.

The fact that I didn't know when I would see him again made me hurt inside. But I knew, somehow, he would return. But it may not be in the same fashion. I had to be patient—it's more probable that he would appear when I wasn't looking for it. I suppose Lions do unexpected things like that.

"Are you alright, Lucy?" I said quietly.

She nodded. Mr. Tumnus touched her shoulder and whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow, Lucy Pevensie, sleep well."

Lucy waved to him and held my hand still. "I'm tired," she said.

"You should start taking naps," I said jokingly.

"Peter!" she exclaimed. "I stopped when I was six, you know I did."

"Why, so you did!" I said hazily. "I'd forgotten."

"Oh," Lucy smiled. "Can we go to bed?"

"Of course!" I swooped down and scooped her up in my arms. The sounds of the party had begun to die down, and Susan and Edmund met us in the hall.

"Her Royal Highness is sleepy," I said, grinning.

"Goodnight, sires!" cried a chorus of voices.

"Goodnight, everyone!" we replied. The fauns struck up a Narnian Lulluby for Lucy's benefit, and all the gentle animals waved us away and were wreathed in smiles.

"I could get used to this," I said to Susan.

I ducked to avoid a playful smack on the head.

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**Thank-you for all your reviews, the updates will occur Sunday or Monday. Until then, I'll be CAMPING! Woohoo!**


	27. Sallowpad and Peg

**To AmyAmidala, PenguinsRock, Elexandros, General Oreius, and StaySweet, **

**Welcome to the crew! It was a BLESSEDLY WONDERFULLY surprising to find 127 reviews! I couldn't believe it! Thanks for the participation, and I am so ultimately pleased and happy that you like my story!**

**Capegio, Anorwen, Reepicheepet, TimeMage, Darkdestiny, Almyra, Elektrum, and anyone else I may have forgotten but I still appreciate you all the more—thank-you for the continuing support while I was camping…**

**Which, by the way, was a BLAST. The worship nights were particularly awesome, Jesus was totally there, and my beach team "cram" (that being the team name) won the Challenges on the Youth Beach Relay. Proud of it, too!**

**(and for further notice, Americanisms such as "closet" will be avoided!) ;-)**

**Question: Doesn't the "loo" reference to a bathroom? Maybe not nowadays, but perhaps in Lewis's time?**

**And now, onto the story…**

**Chapter 27, Sallowpad and Peg**

When I awoke the next morning, feeling so much fresher, awake, and ready to start whatever came my way more than usual. I laid for a moment in bed, breathing in the tangy salt air wafting through the billowing curtains and the sweet Narnian air. I leaped out of bed with so much enthusiasm I failed to remember I'd been in battle only…had it been two days?

I landed in a heap of blankets that had still been clutched under my arm without noticing it and with an "oomf" rolled nearly under the bed. I ducked at the sound of my door creaking open.

"Peter?"

"Susan," I greeted, scrambling to untangle myself.

"Where are you?"

"Uh…under the…bed?"

"Doing…what, exactly?"

Rolling around. Becoming untangled. Banging my head on the bottom of the bed.

"Oh, just, you know, checking the bed, here. Very intricate carving along the edge here. Brilliant. I wonder who does all this carving in Narnia."

Susan hopped face-first onto the bed and peeked over the edge. "Well, we rule this country, so I'm sure we can find out."

"Sure," I said, standing gracefully and brushing myself off. "Good morning?"

"Good morning," she said presently, looking around my room. "You know, our rooms were almost made like our personalities."

"How do you mean?" I stepped into the ajoining room and began washing my face.

"Well," Susan explained. "Mine is very stately, practical, and genuinely pretty. Lucy's is very floral and lacy. Edmund's is tall, dark wood, and with quite a bit of greenery. Yours is golden, practical, with light colours but a higher-look. See what I mean?"

"Mmhmm," I said, opening a tiny door and seeing a bottle containing green…liquid. I wonder what it is.

"We report to our 'office' at ten," Susan said basically, bouncing off my bed (I could hear the wood creak and the heather rustle) and opened the door.

I followed the gesture and opened mine, staring at her. "Office? Don't you think that sounds entirely too much like New York?"

"Whatever you like to call it," said Susan snappishly. "The throne room that isn't for ceremony, but for basic duties."

"I do hope paperwork isn't involved," I said, "Dad hated that stuff."

We both fell silent. For the first time in a long while, we thought of our parents.

"Peter!" gasped Susan. "Can't we tell Mum where we are so she can't worry?"

"I don't think we can," I said despairingly. "We can't very well try the wardrobe, there is no point. We have no guarantee of being able to return to rule. And we very well can't abandon Narnia."

"I know," Susan wailed, slapping a hand over her eyes. "What a fine mess we've got ourselves into! Shan't Aslan return now and help us?"

"They say he pops back now and again," I tried to ease her discomfort.

Susan made an awful, exasperated sigh and slammed my door.

"Goodbye, Susan," I said, keeping sarcasm out of my voice.

Later, I met my siblings in the designated hall that Susan directed me too. It really wasn't anything like New York, of course, but like a study. My siblings were still yawning but arrived promptly and dressed properly. Lucy looked adorable in a very Narnian dress, made of basic linens and simple. Susan and Edmund dressed in similar style—though I should say Edmund wasn't in a dress.

"Sires," said Mr. Tumnus, his hooves clicking towards us and bowing. "There is a Raven who craves audience. Shall we let him approach?"

"Please do!" said Susan, brushing something out of her hair and motioning us to sit in precise chairs at a long, brown table. The fire was lit in the far fireplace, and the wooden room seemed not very ceremonial, but perfectly business like in a Narnian way, which is far more pleasant than anything from back in England. Rather, it was more like a comfortable study in the Professor's old library.

The Raven flew it, low, and settled on the rug and looked up at us. The Raven was nearly three feet tall, and it didn't surprise us at all when he spoke.

"Sires," he bowed with a wing in welcoming gesture. "I fly from the Western Wilderness, after telling my People of the outcome in Battle and that I, and many others, had escaped alive—and bid thee welcome to Narnia."

"Thank-you," I said.

"My name is Sallowpad," he said, his voice falling from cheerfulness to a grave tone. "I am a descendent from the very Raven who was born to the first existing, who swore Oath under Aslan to serve your Majesties in Narnia. My ancestor served King Frank and Queen Helen, the very first human monarchies."

"How interesting!" said Susan brightly. "You must entertain us with that tale sometime."

"I'd be as pleased to serve you in turn!" agreed Sallowpad. "But now, as to honor tradition, I pledge my allegiance to the Rulers once again. A line of great service was broken with the White Witch, whilst none of my family could ever serve under her."

"How nice of you," said Lucy graciously, peeking at me to see if she had spoken correctly. I winked at her.

"Does it please you, my Majesties?" asked Sallowpad, bowing again, his eyes glinting in an excited matter. "I know the rules of the standing ceremony, to swear my life in the service of your kind. It's been discussed for ages upon ages, and finally, the moment has come when my family can have this indescribable honor again."

"And you shall have it!" I said, standing. "Would you mind returning again tomorrow? I'll discuss this with my…brother and sisters, and we'll give you your final answer at noon."

"Fantastic!" cried Sallowpad, flapped his wings. "I shall await this decision with great nervousness, I'll admit! Permit me to rule as a messenger if not the advisor?"

"We shall see," I said, grinning. "We've never met a nicer candidate, anyhow."

"Then Farewell, my Lords," Sallowpad bowed and sailed through the open door. Mr. Tumnus held it open for his departure, winked at us like a faithful butler, and left us alone.

"How splendid!" Susan clapped her hands together. "He is a marvelous bird."

Edmund hadn't spoken a word.

"Well, Ed?" I turned to him. "What gives?"

Edmund wasn't exactly frowning, but he seemed to be in deep thought over the matter. "I think tomorrow is a little soon," he said finally. "I'd just like to see how much of his story is true. How do we know?"

"I suppose we can try and find out," I said doubtfully.

"No!" said Susan suddenly. We looked at her for an explanation.

"I mean, no, there is nothing to worry about," Susan said quickly, "He's alright. Aslan said so."

"Aslan said so?" I asked.

"Yes," said Susan. "I—I don't suppose I told you, but Aslan took me aside, and we had a very long talk. I don't think I shall ever forget it."

"Go on," Edmund said impatiently at her long pause.

"Well," Susan shook herself, "He said things that I—no, no, I won't go into that. But he said the Pahds of the Western Wilderness would be marvelous guides."

"Who are the Pahds?" I asked, still marveling at my family. They were always full of surprises, even Susan, who always seemed so…predictable. I could always depend on her not to throw any surprises my way—it seems I just can't trust anybody! That made me laugh.

"The Pahds are a Raven Family," Susan explained. "Aslan said they would offer their service, and we were to take it without delay."

"Geez, Su," I laughed, "You never did tell us those little details. Is tomorrow's noon too much of a delay?"

Edmund hurrumphed. "It would have saved us a lot of time if we'd had this conversation yesterday."

"We didn't have time yesterday," Lucy butted in, always the last one to join a conversation but always wanting to prove a valid point.

"Lucy's right," Susan rose to her own defense. "And I don't think noon is too bad."

"But if Aslan said--" Edmund began.

"Perhaps not literally," Lucy offered.

"We can't be too picky," Susan added.

"I'm only wondering," Edmund tried.

"I'm sure he won't mind, Peter was only trying to let us in on his decision," Susan interrupted.

"Seems we've done it ourselves," giggled Lucy.

"Can't I get a word in edgewise?" Edmund said exasperatingly.

"Well, if you'd only stop mumbling," said Susan pointedly.

"I don't mumble!"

"You do, actually," said Lucy.

I would like to say everything was resolved just then, but the argument between the three younger ones went on for another fifteen minutes. Like all siblings, despite being in charge of a country, we still fight. Only I watched with careful amusement, determined not to be involved with this one. Like all arguments, it only continued to go in circles. When I finally asked if they would stop, they did—red-faced and cranky with one another—but they all must have felt very silly. It wasn't until our next visitor arrived that they completely forgot it.

"Sires," Mr. Tumnus returned, bowing and bearing a tray of goblets for us. "I've brought you a little treat from the kitchen. Real Narnian wine, excellent flavor."

Lucy reached to take a sip, but I took the goblet from her and sniffed it. "Does it have alcohol in it?" I said doubtfully. Wine in our old world was something only the grown-ups had, while in Narnia, maybe it was only a strong juice.

"Begging your pardon," Mr. Tumnus looked into the goblets quizzically. "I do not know what that is."

"Oh," I said. Edmund laughed outright.

"Is it alright for the younger ones?" Susan motioned to Edmund, who looked a little sour-faced, and Lucy, who looked distracted as a butterfly flew in one window.

"Of course!" Tumnus looked pleased and proud. "It's as safe as tea, this stuff. Wouldn't hurt a fly."

I handed the goblet back to Lucy, and Edmund reached for his.

"Thank-you, Tumnus," we chorused.

"Now that you have your refreshments," Tumnus said, taking the empty tray and bowing once, then twice. "Another person craves audience. An Archenlander messenger."

"Archenland?" I said, equally confused as the rest of my family.

"Why, sire," Mr. Tumnus said, smacking his head. "How silly of me! How often I forget you have not been here forever. Let me fetch something for you."

He opened a drawer, then another, then another.

"Can you not find something?" Susan asked.

"I'm new to the palace, as well," Mr. Tumnus laughed, "Aha! Here it is."

He laid before us a large, beautifully drawn map of Narnia and other lands.

"My goodness," we all leaned in and studied it. "There are others besides Narnia?"

"Yes," Tumnus pointed down. "Archenland runs south. It is a bit warmer, with forests of oak and beech, rather than pine and fir. King Lune rules Archenland, he is a very good man. Before the Witch, he and Narnia were allies."

"Amazing!" we all agreed.

"South of that," Tumnus continued, "Is Mt. Pire. Then the Great Desert, which hardly anyone crosses. And below is the wicked world of Calormene. Tashbaan, the capital, is ruled by the Tisroc. The people wear turbans and carry scimitars. Cruel place. 'Tis where the Calormen live, you see."

"Sounds like Aladdin, in Arabian Nights," Lucy said excitedly.

"Here in the North," Tumnus continued, "Is MarchWiggle land, and then the realm of the Giants. Not a nice place at all!"

"Thank-you, Mr. Tumnus!" I said. "What a lovely geography lesson. You will teach us more, won't you?"

"No, no!" cried Tumnus. "I am not good at geography at all. I have yet to find Spare Oom and War Drobe, but perhaps Lucy can draw me her own map sometime?"

"Rather!" said Lucy, smiling.

"Well," Tumnus said brightly, "Without further to do, I'll bid the visitor from Archenland to enter?"

"Yes," we said.

And with that, Tumnus exited, and a woman entered. She was fair-haired and dressed in traveling clothes of green and brown, and looked like she had been on a long ride.

"Your Majesties," she said, bowing. "Excuse my appearance, but I bring greetings from Archenland."

"And we send ours back," said Susan graciously.

"I am the Messenger of King Lune," said the woman, adjusting the quiver of arrows on her back. "And he wishes to renew our Alliance."

"Of course," Edmund said. I sat back and let him take this one. "And who is this that we have the honor of speaking with?"

"Excuse me," said the Woman, "I apologize. My name is Capegio. I am servant of Archenland. My friend say Peg for short, but it is hardly proper." Here, she bowed again.

"Welcome," I said.

"How do we go about renewing the alliance, exactly?" Edmund said, remaining business-like but not very afraid to show how little we really knew.

"I brought the Scroll," said Capegio. She pulled a scroll from her cloak and placed it in front of us.

_To the High King, King, and Queens, _

_News has reached us that the reign of a great Winter Sorceress has been defeated by the return of Aslan, Your great Lord and the Creator of us All, and the Prophecy was fulfilled by the return of the Monarchs. In the Day of Frank and Helen, may they rest in peace, my grandfathers of generations before came to their Aide in Battles, and long has Narnia come to ours. I wish to renew the Friendship, the Alliance, the great Bond that pleased the Lion and made the World a safer place. _

_Without further to do! Legally, a marriage of sorts would take place, to unite the Kingdoms in more ways than paper. But I only have one son, my other Lost in a great Tragedy when Narnia was under Ice and unable to aide me. The son, left behind and not taken away by Fate, is much too young for marriage. So, with the legal side unable to be pleased, we shall swear under Oath of the Lion that we will be Loyal to one another as great friends._

_I have signed my signature here, please follow the process, and we will forever be legally bonded as an Alliance as sure to please Kingdoms and forever keep our friends Safe._

_King Lune_

There was no question of it. We signed.

Capegio took the scroll back and bowed. "Sires," she said softly, "What has occurred is not only a historical moment, but one that has rested in our hearts and been awaited for since the beginning of the dreaded Winter! King Lune will be most pleased, most pleased. We offer all our sincerest thanks."

"We offer ours," Edmund said, "It will be wonderful to know we will have aide in battle!"

"It takes a load from our Kingdom as well," Capegio stepped back. "I must leave now, I will have a long ride away."

"Wouldn't you like to stay and be refreshed first?" Edmund said quickly. "We have food and wine and all that such, and it DOES look like a long way back."

"I appreciate the customary tradition," Capegio said. "It is an honor to have been asked, but I have great need to return, King Lune is most eager! But comings and goings between our countries have only just begun. This is not the last you shall see of us, and we offer our House to be your House. Farewell!" she bowed.

"Farewell!" we said, and then she left.

And finally, when the day ended, we went to bed—exhausted and with a new feeling of satisfaction. I couldn't wait for the night to end and for us to begin a new day.

**Well, Capegio, did you like your surprise? I hope you did!**

**Please read and review!**


	28. Sallowpad Returns and a Gift

**To my reviewers:**

**Yes, I am a Christian, in answer to some of your questions. ;-) **

**I believe Christ died for my sins and made me a new person—I happened to accept him in my heart at the ripe age of four. Hehe. **

**I'm glad General Oreius agrees with me on the subject of Aslan/God. Its true, Lewis wrote Aslan as symbolism for Jesus, and the death of Aslan to save Edmund replica of Jesus dying on the cross.**

**So, sorry if any of ya'll don't want to read my story from now on, but I understand. But it's a little worthwhile to risk it, eh? ;-)**

**Oh, and to answer question of King Lune's age: he isn't very old, he's a middle-aged man, actually. In the letter from he to the Narnians, he expressed that he wanted to renew the alliance that his grandfathers (or generations ago or whatever) had begun. He's merely continuing it. Shasta and Corin were born about six years earlier, and about six years into their reign, Shasta will return (about age 12, we believe) he'll save Archenland. (read the Horse and His Boy for more details).**

**Chapter 28, Sallowpad Returns and a new Gift**

That afternoon, wewelcomed back our favourite bird. He flew in at precisely noon, and bowed low, and eagerly looked into our faces expectantly.

"We have decided to accept you," said Susan. "Aslan has shown you to be a worthy advisor."

"Oh, hurrah!" cried Sallowpad, flapping his wings. "I thank you so much."

"Will you come live in the palace?" I asked, still unsure of how the whole thing worked—but oh well, we can always form our new traditions, can't we?

"It is customary," said the raven.

"Then hurry back," I said. "I suppose this room is where you'd perform most of your duties?"

"Indeed," said Sallowpad, "I've yet to see any king or queen that sits in this stuffy room for hours upon hours. Your place is outside! Among your people!"

We appreciated his enthusiasm, and after speaking with each other a few more minutes, he went on his way to inform his family and bid them farewell.

I returned to my room and stretched out on my bed, testing my sore limbs and feeling sleepy.

"Peter!" screeched Lucy, invading my room and leaping onto the bed. "Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter!"

"What?" I sat up.

"Take me to the beach, take me to the beach!" she sang.

"Where did all this energy come from?" I said a little peevishly.

"I don't know, I don't know," she continued, jumping up and down and bouncing me. She accidently landed on my sore ankle.

"Ouch!" I snapped.

She sat back on her heals. "I'm sorry."

"You're fine," I said, gritting my teeth and getting off the bed. "And you want to go to the beach? Whatever for?"

I was teasing her now, but I don't know if she could tell.

"Um…" her mind strove for an answer. "I…want to collect seashells."

"And?" I put on my boots, but I don't think she was noticing that it meant yes.

"And, I want to play in the sand."

"Anything else?"

"I would like to splash in the waves."

I gasped. "Lucinda Elizabeth Pevensie! Then why are we still sitting in here? Race you!"

I ran across the room and flung open the door, just as Lucy dived through and took off, giggling, running like mad down the glimmering hall. My ankle hurt and I decided to let her win, and followed like an old grandfather trying to keep up with an exuberant grandchild.

Susan joined me, and Edmund dashed out of his room, almost bowled us over, and took off after Lucy.

Susan handed me a package.

"What's this?" I asked, turning it over.

"A gift," she said mysteriously. "I found it in my room. I certainly won't be using it. I think you should."

"Should I?" I asked, looking at her with raised eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Find out," she said, taking off down the hall after our younger siblings.

"Sheesh," I opened it and found a book. Why shouldn't she want this? She always liked books. Full of boring definitions and languages, probably.

On the contrary, it was blank. The heavy leather binding looked like a dictionary, but in the inside was smooth, parchment paper with absolutely nothing on it.

So…okay.

I followed the sound of splashing and giggling down the hall, out a door, through a garden full of trees, down a path, and into the open air of the seashore.

"What is this, Susan?" I waved it at her.

She only dived underwater as quickly as possible.

"She wants you to be more…educated," sneered Edmund.

"There's nothing in it!" I protested.

"Let's see…what were her words again?" Edmund asked Lucy.

Lucy pondered a moment. "She said keeping a journal kept someone…more interesting, I think, and more thoughtful and understanding. I think."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Something like that."

"Meaning what?" I exclaimed. "That I'm uninteresting, boring, and not understanding?"

"Probably!" Edmund dived in the water too.

"What he said!" Lucy jumped into another wave.

Feeling absolutely confused, and plopped into the sand and opened the journal again. Forgetting it was blank, I slammed it shut. I should have brought something with words in it. I didn't feel like getting wet today.

"Oops!" cried Edmund, flinging water in my direction.

"That's it!" I threw the book down and ran, grabbing Edmund around the waist and jumping head first into an upcoming wave.

He came up spluttering and coughing. "You idiot!"

"You idiot!" I replied.

"You idiot!" mocked Susan, dunking me. I came up spluttering and hacking.

"Why a journal?" I screeched when I surfaced. "I don't write!"

"It's time you have learned!" Susan shouted back above the roar of another wave.

After the last one receded, we resumed our shouting.

"I know how to write, I just don't keep a diary!"

"It's not as girly as you think," said Susan, "It's good for you."

"I never said it was girly, it's just dumb!"

"It is not!"

"Yes, it is."

In the end, we were both severely crushed by a wave larger than usual, and Susan won. I promised her I would try and write in it daily until it killed me—which would happen in less that two days—I informed her, and it should be on her conscience.

I wasn't able to write that night. A strange visitor came in the night and informed us of a strange, old wizard living in the Archenland mountains. Sounds peculiar and no less—

Until our visitor, a faun that looked very, very old, said these words:

"Your Majesties will be wondering what is happening back home, no? Maybe you wonder if your dear Mother even lives at this moment? For a small sum, perhaps I can help you find out."

When I went to bed, I tried to pray again.

"Aslan?"

No answer.

"I mean, God? Aslan? I need wisdom tomorrow. I really want to know what is happening to Mum. I can't abandon her. But I don't trust the faun. Something doesn't seem right. Why should he wait till now, in the middle of the night, to inform us of a wizard that can show us what is going on? I'm very confused."

I didn't sleep a wink all night.

**Sorry so short! I just got a myspace and it is stressful and addictive. **


	29. My First Journal Entry

**Note to Reviewers: Thanks for all the fantastic reviews! It's what's keeping this story going! **

**PS: Do any of you have questions about Jesus or anything? Cuz you know, who says one can't try and be a witness on the internet…………. You could include some questions or concerns in your reviews if you like. I'll even allow a few flames for that. Hehe.**

**Chapter 29, My first Journal Entry**

_I've never written in a diary before, but Susan oh so lovingly gave me this thing. Well, I needed to spill a few thoughts this morning before we discuss our visitor last night with Sallowpad. Oh wait, shouldn't I date it…I don't know the date. We've been in Narnia for nearly a week…I think. It's so hard to believe it was nearly three days or so ago I thought I was going to die in battle. My brother almost did. In fact, we didn't even know this place existed—_

_I'm getting ahead of myself. Susan instructed me about how to start a journal, and it seems I've broken nearly all the rules. Here it goes._

_My name is Peter Walter Pevensie. I am 15—oh, wait, I am turning 16 in three days! How could I forget! The date popped into my head just now, but I think I'll skip writing it in the top of the page, just so the rules are all broken together. _

_Anyways, as you can see, I'm easily distracted while I'm writing. I don't know why. Maybe I could find out. I'll ask Susan, after our meeting. Oops—there I go again!_

_I came from Finchley, England. My brother and sisters stumbled upon Narnia through a wardrobe. Oh, blast, this story is much too long._

_Okay—so, last night, we were on our way to bed. The hall was dark, the candlelight flickering—I daresay it was almost spooky. Anyhow, a big knock sounded at the gate, and our guards hastened to answer it. They told us we had a visitor, and it was merely a faun. We told it to enter._

_A very OLD faun came in, looking tired and broken. In a thin, rasping voice, he told us that we must be wondering where and how our Mother was. How he knew this, I have no idea! _

_This was very unofficial, Susan thought, because we weren't meeting in our normal "office" we jokingly call it. We offered to go into a sitting room of sorts, but the faun demanded we hear him out then and there. How odd. It really was creepy._

_He told us of a wizard, maybe even a witch, who had the powers to show us what we wanted to know. He said he would take us there for a small sprice. I mean price. Blast it! I am such a bad speller! If Mum knew…well, she doesn't, actually. But she could if we take up the offer. Of the faun, I mean. It's all so confusing._

_So he offered to take us to a wizard, to check on mother, for a price. It doesn't seem so bad. But he could have an ulterior motive. I had a funny dream last night. (off subject again, but it ties in somehow, I just KNOW it does!) _

_So, in my dream, I was walking. The world looked a little upside down, and I was in my house. It was suppose to be Cair Paravel, but it was the house in London. I saw the little lion figurine my dad kept upon the mantle, (it doesn't exist, but it did in the dream) and I paused to look at it. All of a sudden, the statue moved and spoke with Aslan's voice. "Beware," he said. "Remember what I told you? How could you have forgotten? The Witch isn't dead."_

_I knew she really WAS dead, I saw her die. It was ridiculous. _

"_The Witch is alive in others!" he shouted, clearly upset. "I need a cup of tea," he said. _

_I laughed out loud. Aslan didn't drink tea. _

"_The army!" he cried. "the army!" _

_Without knowing when the change took place, It really WAS ASLAN, and we were on the battlefield. The Witch's army was fleeing, and we didn't kill them all. Some were marked, some were killed, some were imprisoned because they swore revenge. But there were others!_

_I awoke then, and it was so peculiar I told the others, but they all said the same thing:_

"_I had a dream too," said Lucy. "Aslan said, 'Let Peter figure it out. He shouldn't have forgotten.'"_

"_Aslan spoke to me too," said Susan, grinning evilly like she so often does. (she has quite recovered from being boring, now she is incredibly sassy to a fault)._

"_And he said Peter must do it himself, he has to finish the puzzle."_

"_That's wonderful," I said sarcastically._

"_I only had a nightmare," Edmund said._

_We swooped in like normal siblings, asking him why he didn't wake us up or something. He only replied that they happen every single night! I couldn't believe he kept it such a secret! I could have helped somehow, I know I could have._

"_I have the same one every night," he said, "About the Witch. But this time is wasn't just Her, it was her entire army. They escaped. Aslan was really, really angry."_

_So, I've just stopped writing about ten minutes back, and read over what I just wrote. I sound like a lunatic, but I also remembered something. I pieced the puzzle, as Susan would say. _

_Aslan said this to me, one random night in the camp, but I had forgotten. _

"_If we can only hope to defeat them, we know it won't be the end. She has supporters everywhere, and not all fought. You have many enemies left. The remnants of her army will still be left to be fought." He had spoken this when we were discussing plans on our way to the new camp, when I first got wind that he may not be there himself._

_So now I know! Aslan was warning me last night. The faun DOES have an ulterior motive, he is probably loyal to Her. _

_LATER_

_Sorry, I was interrupted. I've just now come back from the meeting with our royal advisor, Sallowpad. He informed us he did a little research last night, when he caught wind of our visitor. The faun is staying (the faun is called Kanna, by the way) in the lower room by the gate. Sallowpad paid him a visit, and discovered some interesting things. I can't list them all, but here are some: He came from the Witch's castle, claiming he was hiding from her, and said she'd never expect an enemy in her own House. He said he knew nothing of the battle outcome until he realized we were Kings and Queens. He said someone informed him that we were from another world. He said he was very poor and needed the money, otherwise he would have NEVER considered asking payment for his offer—(the offer being, what Kanna called, a tender-hearted act of reverence to the new Sovereigns.) _

_I think it sounds like uh…uh…very unstable story. Very unstable indeed._

_So if it is a trap, we will counter it with a trap of our own. Oreius is leading a band of scouts ahead to the location given by our eagle spies, on the borders of Archenland, I believe, where the Wizard is supposed to live. They will await us there to ensure safety._

_Scouts are posted along the road there._

_We are going to be armed and ready in case the remnants of the Witch lies in wait._

_And whatever is ahead, I beg Aslan we've taken the right precautions._

_I simply HAVE TO KNOW about Mum!_

**Read and Review, my munchkins!**


	30. Dream and Departure

**TO my faithful reviewers! (I apologize, none of u are munchkins!)**

**I hope you enjoy this chappie!**

**Chapter 30, Edmund's Dream and the Departure**

Swallowing my pride, I managed to tell Susan the next morning thank-you for the journal, it helped clear my thoughts.

She said I was most welcome.

I got up early and put on light armor. I knocked on Lucy's door to make sure she was awake, but a passing naiad said she was already at breakfast.

Edmund came out of his room, looking bleary-eyed and ashen coloured.

"What's up?" I asked, walking over to him.

"Nothing," Edmund said drowsily.

"Another nightmare?"

"Yes," Edmund shrugged and walked past me. "Doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," I reached over before he could walk from my reach and gave him a hug. "We can talk about it. Talking about things helps, you know."

"Since when have you started talking like Susan?" Edmund said grouchily.

For a split moment, I almost saw the old Edmund. The betrayer. I took a step back.

"Sorry," Edmund's face melted in a small grin. "I didn't mean to come off like that. I just didn't sleep much, is all. Don't mind me."

"It's fine," I said shortly. "But…don't you want to tell me about the dream?"

"If it will make you feel better."

"I should at least know what we're dealing with, here."

I could tell he liked the way I used "we're". He clasped his hands behind his back and concentrated on each step as we walked together down the hall.

"It's the same, pretty much," he began. "I mean, as what really happened. I'm in the dungeon at the Witch's castle."

He had never told us this. So she did treat him like a prisoner.

"It's really cold…and…"

"Go on," I urged. "It's just a dream. I'm listening."

"Well, then I can hear the wolves. The Witch makes me tell her where you are."

"The Beavers?" I asked. I missed them. They were somewhere in their cozy dam now.

"Yes," Edmund said, nodding. "You're with the Beavers. I tell her. And…and then the wolves howl again, and she tells me you weren't found."

He paused. "That's the relieving part. Well, then I'm in the camp, tied to a tree. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything since the Beavers. Ginabrik keeps slapping me, and poking me, and taunting me. The Witch keeps threatening to kill me. I always awake at the part where she is sharpening her knife to kill me just before I was rescued."

I sighed.

"That's it, really," he shrugged again. "It's no big deal. I just haven't slept long."

"I don't know what to do about it," I said honestly. "Really and truly. But I'm not going to forget. We'll think of something, okay? But give me a little time to ponder this."

"Sure," Edmund said. "I didn't expect you to do anything about it."

"But I'm your brother, it's my job."

"Thanks, Peter."

An hour later, after we supped and mounted our horses, and the guards were armored and ready, we proceeded on our way.

It was much like the day we arrived, which seemed ages and ages ago! Sunny, breezy, and simply lovely. We passed under our gate, and for the first time, we were out again in the Narnian countryside. We passed under a low hanging branch or two on the eaves of the trees, and waiting for us underneath one, was the faun, Kanna. He looked even older, paler, and more deformed in the daylight.

"I hope you are here with the money?" he said, without bowing.

"Yes," fortunately, Edmund had reminded me of it that morning after our discussion. I pulled the bag from beneath my armor. "I have it. But it is customary to keep it until I am sure you can produce your wizard."

"Of course, of course," Kanna licked his lips greedily. "Let's proceed."

I leaned over and whispered to Susan, walking her brown horse beside mine. "You did arrange everything, didn't you?"

"Don't be paranoid," Susan frowned in annoyance. "I'm perfectly capable."

"But you got everything?"

"Yes!" she snapped. "Tumnus and Sallowpad are in charge while we are gone. There is a tiny wagon at the end of the procession with food for us and our guards."

"And Oreius?"

"He awaits ahead, just like you ordered," Susan said, stretching the word ordered as if she disliked it. "Gryphon informed me himself! Do you feel better?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Is feeling better a bad thing?"

"For you, yes," Susan said sarcastically.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Susan rolled her eyes and clammed up. I really hadn't wanted to argue today. We used to fight good-naturedly almost daily, and I hoped Narnia would cure that. Just goes to show—we're still human, still siblings, and not as mature as we hoped the magic in this place would make us.

I couldn't help watching Kanna, walking near the front of the procession of us, twelve guards, four knights or so, and a handful of servants that belonged to them.

I scanned the dark trees on our left, and scanned the sparse meadows on the right. Susan was right! I was being paranoid!

"Edmund, STOP!"

I glanced over my shoulder. Lucy was red, Edmund was grinning.

"Don't bug your sister, Ed," I called.

"Who, me?" Edmund reached over the gap between their horses, grabbed the rein, and tugged Lucy's horse close enough to kiss Lucy's head.

"Eww!" cried Lucy, urging her horse farther ahead. "Ed! You are such a horrid--"

"Lucy, don't call your brother names," I said.

Lucy and Edmund were both annoyed with me for acting like a brother. Well, I'm afraid they can't do much about that.

I strained my ears to hear what they began to whisper about.

"Let's bug Peter," Edmund said.

"We've already both been scolded once," said Lucy doubtfully.

"I'll take the blame," Edmund grinned. "Just follow my lead."

I could almost HEAR them smiling! Susan glanced at me, rolled her eyes, and swung her horse to the right and cantered up the line to walk next to female centaur.

"Are we there yet?" asked Edmund.

"No." I answered. This was going to be a long trip.

Nearly five minutes of silence passed.

"Are we there yet?" Lucy asked, giggling afterwards.

"Nope," I replied.

"Will we get there soon?" Edmund asked.

"Well, let's see," I pretended to pause and rethink myself. "Um, no actually. We have to cross Narnia, Archenland, and travel into the mountains! Ask me in two days!"

"Not funny, Ed," Lucy said smugly. "I told you so."

From then on, peace overcame them finally, and they enjoyed riding for the day.

We camped that night under a canopy of stars.

We journeyed again the next morning, Lucy and Susan extremely saddle sore, but me and Ed feeling a little superior to their horse skills.

We camped under a dusky cloud cover that night.

It is too boring to discuss every day of riding, the reader should NEVER forgive me.

When we passed into Archenland, we found things a little warmer and had more mountain ranges in the distance.

One of our guides, a younger centaur (a nephew of Oreius) named Eryn, explained which direction to take to King Lune's palace, and pointed out various landmarks.

Thankfully, that night we were able to stay in an Archenlandian village, with proper beds and such.

Lucy and Susan were still feeling very cranky, however. Mostly Susan. I hoped she wasn't upset with me. Isn't that just like a girl.

By the fourth afternoon, we decided to take a little rest break to rest the horses. Before we pulled to a stop, my horse, (a lively brown named Kunlidge) stepped in a hole.

Before I'd quite realized what happened, she'd thrown me clear off the saddle and into the brush—which made it a soft landing—and stumbled. I jumped to my feet quickly enough (though my arm the Witch had stabbed hurt nonetheless) and checked my horse. Kunlidge was fine, thank goodness. I knew enough that she could have broken her leg.

Other than that, the journey held nothing adventurous or outstanding. I knew everyone was paranoid for some sort of attack, but none came.

"It's the quiet before the storm," someone muttered.

I hoped they were wrong.

**read and review, or i'll send Jadis to haunt YOUR dreams and we'll leave Ed alone!**


	31. The Old Hermit

**My dear Reviewers:**

**Bravo! I will not send Jadis. She is actually, in fact, dead, so it wouldn't work anyway. **

**I love how you all have ideas about Kanna the faun. I have many twists planned for you. Muahahaha!**

**May –cough cough—Aslan (or someone very LIKE him, wink wink) bless you!**

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**Chapter 31, the Old Hermit**

Imagine how surprised I was, when in fact, after our last day of traveling, we found ourselves on the outside of a green hedge—and inside, was in fact, the wizards cottage.

The mountain air was cool and green (I hope you know what I mean about the air feeling green!) The breeze was a little stiff and frigid, but it blew only every other hour.

When we had entered the dense, fir woods, we had expected an attack at any moment, especially from the way Kanna kept moving from side to side. First on one side, then another, and glancing into the trees as if very expectant.

Perhaps we had misjudged him, I wondered…he had led us safe thus far. His story, I remembered, was so unbelievable. He had to be crooked. Even his…his look and appearance felt like an evil presence—someone who had been with the Witch.

"S-sire's," said Kanna, fretfully rubbing his hands together and stepping from side to side. "Here is thy journey's end. I have brought you safe. Now the money?"

"Let's make sure he is home first!" I said, eyeing him.

Kanna couldn't meet my gaze.

I motioned to a guard, who dismounted and gave the wooden door into the hedge a knock.

I was steadily growing more and more confused. I had at least expected a small castle of sorts, rather than a fisherman's cottage behind a well-kept hedge that stood about nine feet or more tall.

I shared a look with Susan, who sat motionless on her horse, and kept glancing out of the corner of her eye at Kanna, who was looking more nervous with each passing moment.

Lucy and Edmund sat on their horses, rooted behind me. I couldn't see by their faces what their thoughts were.

"He…he must be home!" wailed Kanna, rocking from side to side and licking his lips. "I've brought thee thus far! I am only a poor beggar. Mayn't I have the money?"

We did not answer.

The wooden door swung open, and their stood an old man. He was robed in brown, and he looked…

Like a kind old Grandfather!

Lucy almost laughed in her surprise. We had really expected a solemn old wizard.

"Why, why, welcome, my children!" the old man's voice was well-spoken and every syllable was carefully pronounced. "Who might I have the honor of offering my home to?"

"We are the Kings and Queens of Narnia," I said, trying to mend my shaking voice as to sound regal and stately. "We've come…to seek help."

"At last!" the old man clapped his hands. "The sovereigns of Narnia! King Lune has told me of you…and the alliance has been renewed! Oh, to think I have this honor."

"Good afternoon, sir," Lucy said politely. I smiled. She never lost her good, British manners.

"Good afternoon!" he said. "I am so delighted. Queen Lucy, are you not? Come in, come in my children. Your courtiers may await outside a moment, my humble abode cannot fit so many!"

We dismounted. Lucy went in first, followed by Susan, then I passed under the door. Edmund grabbed my arm and motioned to the shaking Kanna.

Kanna stood rooted, still rocking, his eyes wide with some fear. He kept rubbing his hands together and licking his dry lips.

"the money," I said, taking the pouch from my belt. "Kanna, thank-you for your service."

The old man made a strange noise in his throat behind me.

Kanna steadily creeped forward, as if expecting a blow to the head. He snatched the purse and bounded away with amazing speed—hardly like anything an old faun could do—and disappeared.

"Kanna!" said Lucy in surprise. "Why, he's gone."

"That he is," said the old man, tsking his tongue and shaking his head. "Always bounding away."

I was going to ask him to explain, but Edmund pushed me inside, and the wooden door clicked shut behind us.

"Now," said the man, "Allow me to introduce myself! I am the Old Hermit."

"Please, sir," said Susan, "Can we not call you by anything…proper?"

"Is my name not so proper?" exclaimed the Hermit. "It is who I am, and who I will always be. Hermit will do."

"Oh," Susan fell silent and looked to me for explaining.

"Well," I said, "We're here because I need answers…for something."

"Sit down," bid the Hermit kindly. We sat on the chairs on the green, well-cut grass. In the center of the lawned grass was a large, glistening pool surrounded by marble edges. The most beautiful tree in the entire world rested in the corner, its branches tall and spreading over the yard and hedge brim.

"Now," said Hermit, "I do have the point of knowing who I am working for. You are King Peter the Magnificent," he pointed to me. Then he listed the rest of us, and pointed to us in turn. "And," he continued. "You are working with Kanna. What, begging your pardon, possessed you to work with Kanna?"

"He was really anonymous," explained Edmund. "He made us a good offer, and we took it. We took every precaution. Do you know anything about him?"

"Only this," said the Hermit, "He fought in one of the Great Wars long, long ago—a rebellion against the Witch nearly twenty years ago. The rebellion was crushed, and He was the only one who escaped from the Witch's torture chambers. His small band of fauns were tortured to the death. It left him—shall we say, unsteady, and always nervous."

So that explains his peculiar mannerisms and his appearance.

"Doesn't he have family?" asked Lucy, with a curious glint in her eye.

"A son, I think," said the Hermit. "But he never returned home. The horror of the rebellion's defeat left him his mark. He has roamed Narnia and Archenland since—staying in the Witch's hidden cellar, during the cold seasons—and offering help to only those greatest in need."

"How does he know they are in need?" I asked, remembering how he knew I wanted to find out about Mum's whereabouts.

"He has developed a bit of insight," said the Hermit gravely. "Aslan saw his suffering, and had pity on him. He gave him the gift of seeing who needed assistance that only he could give."

My siblings and I looked at each other. We had been so gravely wrong about him! He even had Aslan's blessings on him! Silently, I begged Aslan's forgiveness for being so judgmental.

"So!" said the Hermit, bursting into smile. "Now you know of Kanna. Though, he prefer to remain anonymous, like you said, King Edmund. Best not to speak of him to anyone. To continue—what of your personal errand?"

It was Lucy who burst into the story, explaining we had left our Own World so abruptly, that we had no time to write Mum. And now that we rule a country, we can hardly leave it to explain things to her—there is no guarantee of getting back.

The Hermit listened carefully, his fingertips pressed together as he leaned forward in his chair, his eyes towards his lap. Every other sentence, he "hmmd" and nodded.

"You know," the Hermit said, finally meeting our eyes. "I know nothing of the Other Worlds, only Aslan is experienced in that area. We have no garuntee that any time passes while you are gone."

Lucy's eyes widened. "The first time I was here, no time passed at all."

"Ah."

"And the second time, nearly three days had passed, or so Beaver hinted, that Tumnus found time to give him the hanky before he was arrested. And Aslan arrived and set up camp."

"Ah," repeated Hermit. "So it really depends."

"It does," added Susan.

There was a silence, as the Hermit pondered our situation.

"Please, sir," said Edmund, very quietly. "Is there any way I can tell Mum I'm sorry?"

It had suddenly occurred to me. Last time Edmund saw his mother, he had been a cruel, wicked boy. And now he had grown up. His life had been turned around. He must be so pressed with guilt.

"No, you cannot talk to her," said the Hermit. "Are you afraid something will happen to you before you speak with your mother?"

"I…" Edmund paused, sinking lower in his seat. "Well, yes, actually. I keep…having dreams that I am about to die. I … I couldn't do that without telling Mum I'm sorry!"

"Ah, yes," the Hermit stroked his beard. "Dreams of death often come from a certain guilt with a loved one. Is it with a particular party?"

"When I was imprisoned by the Witch," whispered Edmund.

"Oh, even more likely so," said the Hermit. "The spirit of a Witch can haunt dreams for a lifetime, if you do not get some help for it."

"You…you don't mean her spirit is…alive?" Edmund paled so quickly I thought he was going to faint.

Susan put a hand on his arm. "Ed, perhaps another time--"

"No, this is important," I said, remembering my promise to help.

"A Witches' spirit can never die unless pierced by a sword in her true flesh," said the Hermit.

"What is that?" Lucy asked nervously.

"A serpent," said the Hermit, "The first aggressor to ever walk the earth. The snake of the devil."

There was a silence.

"She will not bother you anymore," said the Hermit, rising to his feet. "I can assure you of that! Her work is paralyzed for many, many years."

"Oh," Edmund looked only a little relieved.

"Come look into my pool," said the Hermit abruptly. "I will show you your Mother."

We jumped to our feet and followed him to the pool. We gazed inside.

The water was crystal clear, and then it faded to a blue, like the Caribbean. Behind the lily pads, a picture appeared, like a silent film.

It was Mum.

She was sitting in her favorite chair, knitting. She was singing to herself, a tiny smile on her face. On the table next to her, our very last letter sat open where she had left it after reading it.

The picture faded.

"No, no!" cried Edmund, stepping too close to the edge. "Please, bring it back, please."

"I'm sorry," said the Hermit, "that is all. But do you see? She is happy."

I cannot tell you how happy we were. Mum was safe, and she was happy. Susan kissed the old man's cheek, Lucy hugged him. I shook hands heartily with him, and Edmund followed, though he looked tired and weary.

"Aslan bless you all," called the Hermit, waving from his step. "Come again!"

And then he disappeared behind the trees.

We left, however, in high spirits. Our hearts were full with the thought of Mum, safe and sound, and not worried for us in the least.

I was thinking of this when Lucy rode to my side, as we continued down the hill, surrounded by our pleased courtiers and happy guards.

"Peter," she hissed. "I must say something!"

"Go ahead, Lu," I said, looking at her in concern. "I'm listening."

"I think," she stuttered a moment, looking at the reigns in her hands.

"I think Kanna is Mr. Tumnus's father."

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**HAHA! Weren't expectin' that, were ya? Kanna isn't all he seems to be.**

**Now, as you probably well know, the "wizard" is the Old Hermit from the Horse and his Boy, the book right after LWW. **

**I hope you liked this chapter as much as I had fun writing it!**

**Jesus bless!**


	32. School in Narnia?

**To my faithful reviewers!**

**I loved the feedback for this chapter, it made me…giddy! Hehe.**

**In answer to a few questions: Edmund's nightmares may return if I find it essential to the plot, however, his guilt was involved with seeing the Pool and his Mum, so it may not come up for awhile. I have no clue how long this story will be, I wanted to write about the strangeness of returning to London after being in Narnia for eight years—and personally, I can't find that happening until I've written at least five more chapters about five specific adventures and duties that Lewis hints happened. There may be even more. ;-)**

**In one of the last bits in LWW, Lewis tells us that they kept good animals from going to school. What a funny predicament that must have been…**

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**Chapter 32, School in Narnia?**

Lucy's surprising idea left me nearly silent the entire trip home. I pondered it over and over again in my head till it throbbed. Could Kanna really be Tumnus's father?

Lucy and I discussed it. She said there was a painting of Tumnus's father in his little cave. "It had claw marks from the wolves," she said sadly. "Not very salvageable, but it did look like a very young Kanna!"

Did Tumnus know his father was possibly alive, or was he presumed dead?

The trip flew by so quickly because of my wonderings and hard work at trying to decipher our most recent mystery. I didn't even really think of Mum that much. As soon as I knew she was happy and safe, something inside almost began to erase everything from the life before from my present mind.

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That afternoon, after cleaning the horses, putting the luggage inside, and greeting our ecstatic courtiers—we met Sallowpad and Tumnus to ask if anything had happened in our absence. Everyone looked so excited and giddy, so I didn't think much of it. I thought they were excited to see us home and nothing else.

When Sallowpad and Tumnus met us, they were most happy but looking greatly relieved.

"By the Lion's Mane, you've returned in time," cried Sallowpad, alighting at our feet and flapping his wings excitedly. Tumnus bowed. "We've quite a predicament on our hands!" he said. For a second, the eager look on his face looked just like Kanna.

"What is it?" I asked. Lucy and Susan had gone up strait to their rooms, only Edmund stood with me waiting to here what had happened.

"Well," Sallowpad looked embarrassed. "We…have a family of Badgers that need a little family advice."

"Oh!" I said, stiffening my face to keep myself from laughing out loud.

"Oh!" repeated Edmund, barely succeeding.

We followed Tumnus and Sallowpad into the throne room (the minor one), where a large family of Badgers had gathered. There also were a few Beavers and nearly a dozen rabbits.

"Well!" cried Tumnus. "It seems we've had a few more appear since we were here last!"

"Good afternoon," I said to our visitors, pulling a bit of armor off my forearm. "Excuse our appearance, we've only just come back from a long ride."

All the furry heads nodded up and down.

Edmund and I sat down.

"Go for it," Edmund said as he plopped into a chair.

I gave him a funny look. That wasn't very kingly sounding. The animals looked confused.

"You may proceed," I said properly.

"Ah!" said several voices, then they all began to talk at once.

"Hold up," I said, raising a hand. "One at a time! Who was here first?"

"I was!" they all said at once.

"The Badgers," Sallowpad said, giving me a wink.

Mr. Badger came forward, twitching his whiskers. "Sire," he said in a throaty voice. "We've got a little problem in our thicket. You see, school opened."

It was all Edmund could do to keep from laughing. A sound emitted from his lips that seemed related to a sneeze and a cough.

"Oh," I said seriously. "Continue."

"Now, our little ones here, they don't wanna go!" Mr. Badger explained, growing a little bolder. "Now, these schools opened just as the Witch became the dictator. That was when she was nice, mind you. The teachers were plenty nasty, gathering in little caves with chalk and letters and symbols—and all that rot. But our children were a learnin', so we make no fuss now."

"That's right!" cried a rabbit shrilly. "My children don't want to go back!"

"Right you are, Violet," said a she-beaver. "They learned their letters, and their speech, mind you, but the atmosphere was most awful."

"They are reopening!" the Badger pumped a fist. "The nerve of them! A few good trees are trying to teach, but the nasty caves are in disrepair, and the children are frightened that the Witch's ol' cohorts will return and murder them, on behalf of their revenge, you might say, for their mistress."

"You poor things!" Edmund had finally composed himself. "That must be terrible. I can fathom how awful it is for your children. We'll do something, won't we, Royal Brother?" here, he almost lost it. He was enjoying mocking our own titles way too much. He sneezed and coughed again.

"Of course," I agreed, imagining myself pummeling Edmund to the ground and winning a darn good wrestling match. "and I think I've got a solution for you, too!"

"Already?" said a baby rabbit. She was promptly shushed by a parent.

"Yes," I said, enjoying the thought of saving kids like me…(even if they are different species,) from school if at all possible.

"They shall learn here!" I said. "They need their education, that's for sure. But sending them to the remnants of a Witch School is asking too much."

They nodded in excitable agreement.

"I'll find some trustworthy, true Narnian's," I said, "And they can give the children tours of the castle. They'll find out about history, art, tapestry, and whatnot. I'll find some language experts to teach them their letters and review languages on the beach. Whatever they write in the sand can be washed away, they shouldn't have to worry about chalk and ghastly stone tablets."

They were growing more excited by the second.

"They can learn about geography in their own yard, and they can each have a map of Narnia and the surrounding areas. Numbers and measurements can be taught in whatever way they learn best."

Tumnus was hurriedly taking notes. "See to finding good, kind teachers willing to do a little traveling and teaching in an old fashioned way," I told him. He licked his pencil, nodded, and skittered from the room.

"Thank-you sire!" cried several voices at once. A badger or two ran towards me and kissed my feet. That, honestly, was the most awkward thing that happened to me as being High King. But none of them seemed to think anyone else any less for it, so I decided it must be custom of gratitude. Edmund discreetly lifted his feet a little ways off the floor.

When the noise died down, and they were informed the "school" would reopen in a month, when summer ended, Edmund and I finally slipped away and went right for our rooms.

"I. am. exhausted!" cried Edmund, dragging his feet up the great flight of steps. We arrived, at last, in the hall that led to our bedrooms. I turned for mine and Edmund to his. Just as I turned my back, I felt his hand on my arm.

"Peter!" he said quickly.

"What?"

"Happy birthday," he said, grinning.

I had comepletely forgotten!

"How old am I, exactly?" I teased.

"You're sixteen, you dolt," laughed Edmund. "How could you forget your own birthday! Me and the girls already planned everything this morning, on our way here. We're going to have a bonfire on the beach."

"Wonderful!" I reached over and mussed his hair. "Thank-you, brother!"

"Royal brother," corrected Edmund, standing very dignified. He strutted to his bedroom, slammed the door, and laughed so loudly I could hear him even after my door carefully clicked shut.

Tonight was my birthday, and I was going to enjoy it. The fauns would probably dance, the dryads would sing…it would be terribly fun.

Suddenly I remembered Kanna. I needed to speak with Tumnus about it—something I decided I should do the next day.

And just after that serious thought, I groaned aloud with the thought of someone else.

A tall, blonde naiad.

Surely she would be there tonight.

And I promised her another dance right after our coronation!

I wanted to rush to the bathroom and lose my lunch.

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**Now, another light-hearted chapter is to come—High King Peter's 16th birthday! (or so everyone thinks! –wink wink--) **

**Will the blonde naiad return and torment poor Peter? Will an unexpected visitor come to the party? And will Lucy figure out how to dance ((the right way!)) with the fauns?**

**You'll find out! Muahahaha. **


	33. Of Stone & Birthday Parties

**To my ever-faithful reviewers! **

**I really loved the responses for this chapter, I thought a little light-heartedness was needed for a little balance between some Edmund angst and little furry Narnian animals. **

**And for future reference, just to let you all know, I don't tolerate flames, cussing, or anything of that sort…but I'm afraid I left one off the list, so none of you are to blame, I'm sorry—but I CANNOT tolerate slang for…body parts. Lol. It is one of my pet peeves. If you refrain from this in the future I will think nothing of it.**

**So, off the serious note, I have been having brainstorming plots and twists erupting in my poor head and it has been loads of fun! I hope I can channel a little of this excitement to all of you! Please Enjoy!**

**Pip**

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**Chapter 33, of Stone and Birthday Parties**

That evening, everyone was dressed in fine array and someone starting a load of fire-crackers erupting offshore and exploding over the sea. The bonfires were lit, and like I predicted, the fauns and satyrs danced like the world was going to end. Lucy danced with Tumnus as well as could be expected, but without hooves, she tripped often and only earned more laughing and cheering her on from the audience.

The sea-people gathered as close to shore as possible, and sang lovely songs in deep, brassy voices for the men, and shrill, lilting voices with the women. Torches and candlelight flickered all down the beach, and benches of food were set up to everyone's delight.

When I came down, everyone erupted in cheers and clapping, and someone handed me a goblet of wine. Ghastly stuff! I took a few sips here and there to please them.

"Speech!" cried Sallowpad.

"No, wait, no--" I hollered, but with no avail. A giant, standing behind me, picked me right up and hoisted me onto a log, where all the lights flickered below and everyone could see me.

"I don't make speeches," I hissed to whoever was listening.

"King Peter! King Peter!" they cried. "Speech, speech!"

"Well," I stuttered. "I am very truly honored," wait, I wasn't running for anything, that sounded like the wrong kind of introduction. "I mean, I'm really thankful to have lovely and kind friends like you. It really is quite a great surprise that should all go to so much trouble for me."

They applauded. "So, now you're stuck with me for awhile, me being king, and all."

They laughed. Was I trying to be funny? I couldn't remember.

"I think this party will be a fine beginning to a wonderful year," I finished. "Now, go enjoy yourselves. And thank-you for this wonderful gift."

They finally applauded their final and dispersed, and the Giant Rumblebuffin lifted me carefully down.

"Thank-you," I said automatically.

"You're welcome, my little sire," said the Giant warmly.

I shook my hair out of my eyes (it really was getting much longer than usual! Maybe it was the Narnian air…) and almost ran into Edmund, who was coming down the path from Cair.

"Ed!" I said. "You're late!"

"I just woke up," Edmund muttered, not returning my playful grin.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.

"What is going on?" Susan appeared quite out of nowhere.

"Um," Edmund paused, clasped his hands behind his back, and nudged a bit of sand with his toe. "Well, I was really tired and I went to bed, and I had another nightmare."

"I'm so sorry," I said sincerely. Hasn't he suffered enough?

"I thought that when you saw Mum that it would be okay," said Susan confusedly.

"So did I!" said Edmund snappishly. "But I can't exactly help it."

"What'd you dream about?" I asked.

"It was different this time," he said. "I don't know if I can tell you."

"Ed," said Susan gently, "We're not going to hate you or anything. Just tell us."

"Alright," Edmund gave in, and sat with a thump on the nearest log. For a moment, all that echoed in the background—the waves, the fire, the laughter—were the only sound.

"Okay," Edmund repeated, fingering a bit of sea grass. "I…I figured out why I keep dreaming. It wasn't because of Mum. But it was because of guilt."

"We did forgive you," said Susan a little too sharply.

"Su," I warned.

"You can't forgive me for something you don't know I did!" Edmund blurted.

"What did you do?" Susan said quietly, not hiding the apprehension in her voice.

"It was my fault the fox never made it through," Edmund said softly. "It's all my fault."

"The Fox?" Susan tried to remember.

"The fox we met in the woods," I said, realization dawning on me. "He was sent to gather more troops."

"That's the fellow," Edmund confirmed, wiping his eyes.

"Is that why you suggested sending a second person to gather troops?" Susan asked.

"Yes."

"What happened to him?" I said, sitting next to him. "It's okay if you tell us. We'll understand."

"I killed him." Edmund began to cry softly.

"Oh!" Susan said, putting a hand over her mouth. I couldn't say anything.

"I…I was with the Witch," Edmund sniffed once, then twice. "And the fox was captured. I tried to bargain with the Witch to let him go—but she wouldn't hear of it. Then I—I was SO STUPID!" he burst out in sudden anger with himself.

"That's all in the past!" I exclaimed. "Ed, listen to me. I want you to stop this. You are putting way too much guilt on yourself. That's enough."

Ed looked at me in surprise. I suspected he never thought I'd order him to stop blaming himself.

"Then what happened?" Susan said gently.

"I gave away your location to the Witch. As soon as she got the information out of me, the Fox had nothing of value to her. She turned him to stone."

"Then you really didn't kill him," Susan declared.

"Information in exchange for a life is just as bad!" Edmund argued.

"Ed," I stood and pulled him to his feet. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. When the party is over, we're going to go into the castle, and find something to help us."

"Something?"

"Anything! A book of spells, a magician, a courtier, I don't know. Anything that can turn someone from stone into a live thing."

"I don't think that--"

"Don't keep on interrupting. Whenever we find something to aide us, (and until then we'll beg Aslan to show us to it!) we're going to saddle up and go immediately to the spot it happened, do you understand?"

"Yes!" Edmund said, looking shocked. "And everyone else?"

"What do you mean?" asked Susan.

"There was a party," said Edmund, "Of animals, they—they were celebrating Christmas. The Witch turned them all to stone."

"If you can remember where it is," I said, "Then we'll go there too. It's going to be fixed, Edmund, do you understand me?"

"I … I guess so…"

"Good!" I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the array of dancers and singers and animals making merry together. "Now listen, just lay low, try to enjoy yourself. When the last guest leaves, we meet up there--" I pointed to the topmost turret at the brink of the castle. "And we'll discuss our plans. I take it you want it as secret as I suspect?"

"You suspect right," Edmund almost sound sarcastic.

"I will see you later, then."

"Okay," Edmund looked up at me. "Thanks." Then he scampered away towards the ocean, where Lucy, Tumnus, Sallowpad (Sallowpad and Tumnus had become fast friends) and a few satyrs were wave-jumping.

"Well, if it isn't King Peter…and without a partner!"

I closed my eyes in annoyance, and forced myself to turn around with a smile on my face.

There she stood—looking as tall, as blonde, and as silly as ever.

"Aren't you going to dance with me, King Peter?" she giggled, holding out her hands.

"I—well," I stuttered.

"You promised!" she stuck out her lip, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes, yes I did," I said sorrowfully.

"Well then!" she grabbed my hands and pulled me to an open place of sand, where couples of all sorts danced something like a waltz, but more graceful.

"You're dancing only grows more accomplished," she giggled again, whirling me around. I felt dizzy. "And my my," she exclaimed, "You're hair is growing longer!"

"Really. I hadn't noticed." I said dryly, my smile beginning to feel plastic.

"Are you always so funny?" she laughed gaily, looking hard into my eyes.

"Not to seem rude," I said slowly, "But are you always so…flirty?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, only dancing closer. "If that's what Humans call it. We naiads act this way all the time."

"You don't say," I said. So much for a casual hint.

"You are superb!" she said, laughing and clapping as the dance ended. "Let's go get some of the delicious banquet they've prepared!"

"Yes," I said, not at all eager. "I'm starved."

"You don't say," said the naiad teasingly, repeating my own words.

"What IS you name?" I yelped exasperatingly. I knew she was only waiting for me to ask.

"I thought you'd never ask," she giggled. Ha ha. "My name is Leyli. Isn't it lovely?"

"What?"

"My name!"

"I suppose so!"

"Isn't that wonderful? I think so too!"

It would absolutely kill the reader to hear more of the evening I spent with the naiad, Leyli. She was my partner for the rest of the evening—for eating, dancing, and everything else they do in Narnia birthday parties.

Finally, nearing one o'clock in the morning, the party dissipated, and eager peoples wished me many happy returns, and finally left for home. I thanked everyone for one of the most fantastic parties I'd ever had (it really was true, I was determined to let nothing—even naiads and nightmares—spoil my fun). And finally, when the moon was gone and a chill crept over the black sky and the gray sand… I tucked Lucy in bed, hugged Susan goodnight, and hurried up the turret stairs. They were covered in cobwebs and positively spooky—and I wasn't even feeling tired. I'd gotten a second wind, you might say, a rush of adrenaline that made me eager for whatever Edmund and I were going to do.

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**I told you the fox would come into play later, tho I daresay most of you probably had forgotten him! I hope you liked this chapter!**


	34. What Happened in the Topmost Turret

**To my reviewers! **

**OOH! I loved the input for this chapter! Thank-you for being some of the coolest reviewers ever.**

**To the Fanfiction prayer group:**

**I would love to join! How do I do it?**

**And to your concerns regarding Aslan rescuing the fox, I thought it'd be better if Aslan left behind a few things (on purpose, of course,) to teach lessons and help make the Pevensies better rulers.**

**About the timeline—that has me dreadfully confused, honestly. I read the book "Beyond the Wardrobe" a complete guide of Narnia, C.S.Lewis, and everything in between. It said the Pevensies ruled for eight years, so I went with that. I'm afraid I'll have to stick with it, because I have timeline of events figured out in my head, and another seven years will mess it up. Lol. **

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**Chapter 34, What Happened in the Topmost Turret**

Panting, I reached the top of the stair, and found a small landing with a large, wooden door. I opened it and coughed when a gust of dust blew backwards.

There was only another flight of stairs! Sighing in exasperation, I ran up as quickly as I could, banging my knee against a stone, and finally arrived underneath an archway into the turret-room.

I had beaten Edmund, but while I was alone, I decided to explore it a little bit. The first thing I noticed was a tapestry hanging from the wall, with gold tassels. It was scarlet coloured, with a golden lion woven into the middle. It's eyes were golden and green.

The starlight shone brightly from the window, giving the room a blue light. I look a bit of flint from my pocket and struck a spark, just to see if it worked. Then I struck it again at the head of a torch. It was lit instantly, and I pulled it from its wall-holder and held it to the others, and soon the room had a more cheery feeling. And this is what I saw.

In the middle was an old table, on top of it was an empty box, a dusty teacup, and a quill pen. Next to it stood a high-backed chair. The fireplace, of course, was empty and the wind had blown the ashes all over the floor in front of it. In a few indents of stone around the room, lay a few odds and ends. What most intrigued me was the book.

It was heavy, thick, and ornate. Covered in scrolls and swirls and fine leather. I wanted to open it, but I thought it'd be best to wait for Edmund.

I could hear Edmund long before I could see him. He panted up the stairs and finally appeared under the archway, dusting himself off.

"Come look at this," I said right away.

"What is it?"

"It's an old book."

"That's Susan's love," Edmund said, looking as intrigued at I was.

We opened the book and coughed horrendously from the amount of dust that shot out. I wiped a cobweb off the first page, and tried to read it.

"It looks like it's in a different language," I said sorrowfully. "In a completely different alphabet. I can't understand it."

"Darn," said Edmund. He peered closer. "You are silly, Peter, it's in English."

"It is not!"

"It is too! I can read it."

"Oh. So can I. But it wasn't like that a second ago!" I was dead serious. It had been covered with dust, yes, but not enough for me not to tell that is was all swirls and ink, nothing like A, B, or C.

"It says," said Edmund, "The Private Journal of Coriakin."

"We shouldn't read this," I said.

"He probably doesn't exist anymore," protested Edmund. "It's like a history book."

"Not a private diary," I said. I mean, really! I ought to know! As far as I knew, I was the only one keep a journal in the family, and already I realized I wouldn't want anyone to read it.

"Soon they'll publish diaries for fun," argued Edmund. "If we ever get home. You'll see."

"oh really!" I said. "Do you think they'd publish a diary of some of those Germans bombing home?"

"No," Edmund thought carefully. "But I suppose it'd be more likely to publish a diary of a _victim_ of the Germans. A protagonist, you know."

"Where did you get so smart?" I asked.

"I don't know!" exclaimed Edmund. "Anyhow, shall we read it?"

"I guess so."

_I must find a place to keep the spells I've made up myself. A private journal will work, likely as not. My spellbook, as you well know, is quite alive and living quite comfortably in my House, in the room of the upstairs that no Dufflepads care to enter._

"Dufflepads?" giggled Edmund.

"How strange," I replied, but I was delighted to find that it may contain spells.

_The spells bring a whole lot of trouble! Someone only looks in my book, and the pages come alive with pictures and words and songs, and it enchants many. So the journal it is, to keep the spells I've made up myself, (bless me, I can be talented sometimes!) and keep a few potion formula's, here and there._

"Perhaps we can find something to change people from stone," I said excitedly.

Edmund reached over and slammed the book shut.

"What was that for?" I exclaimed. "You're the one who wanted to read it."

"And once I did, I felt funny," Edmund said earnestly. "I don't think it's right anymore."

"Well, I've changed my mind," I exclaimed, hungry to read more and find something for stone.

"Peter," said Edmund, "Now YOUR acting enchanted. You don't change your mind easily!"

"Well," I stuttered, "I have today." I didn't know why I was so eager to read more. It was drawing me in.

"Peter!" Edmund repeated. "I think we should stop!"

"I want to find a spell!"

"Who says we need a spell?"

"I do!"

"Why can't we find something that is much more normal?"

"Narnia isn't exactly normal, Edmund, and I want to look at the rest of this!" I thrust open the book.

Edmund lurched forward and closed it. I opened it again. Edmund pushed me to the side, and I shoved him back.

Suddenly there was a roar that echoed off the walls and throbbed in every corner.

"Aslan!" Edmund and I both exclaimed at once.

The tapestry had come to life. The face of Aslan was encased in the woven threads, though its jaw had protruded out and its eyes were fiery diamonds, sparkling in rage.

"Peter!" it said.

I was at loss for words. I felt so ashamed, but I hardly knew why.

"You ought to have listened to me," said Aslan. "I told you not to read it. You heard me, but you disobeyed."

"I'm sorry!" I said sadly.

"Edmund," said Aslan, "You knew what was right. You ought not to have tried to make Peter read with you."

"I'm sorry too," he said.

"Any book of enchantments is not to be taken lightly," Aslan said. "Why were you so determined to use a magical spell to rescue the animals which I left for you to remember?"

"I thought the only thing to do was to find a spell," I said humbly.

"Why did you not think of asking me?" Aslan said, his voice sounding so sad that I wanted to cry.

"I don't know," I said honestly.

"You've forgotten me to trust something you can see and use yourself," Aslan explained. "And in return almost enchanted yourself to pure madness. A magicians book can never be read without permission. Coriakin is alive, indeed, and the Witch's cohorts stole his journal and left it here."

"Oh," Edmund and I said.

"Now," Aslan said more gently. "You are new to this place. That is why I am here for you now. I am here to guide you and teach you. You just have to surrender everything to me—do you understand, Peter? EVERYTHING." His voice shook the stone.

"Yes." I said in the smallest voice I could imagine.

"Then take this," Aslan said. "And heed it well. You must go to the animals I left behind to teach you this very lesson. Only I can make them come back—that is why you must trust me completely."

"We do," I said, knowing Edmund felt the same.

"Good," said Aslan, "Then my task is finished for now." Then the tapestry look as ordinary as a tapestry could look.

"What exactly happened just now?" Edmund said in a moments silence.

"I don't know." I said. "But I suppose we need to leave for the place you last saw them immedietly."

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**Ooooh, Peter got in trouble with Aslan. Wait—let's see—who was that reviewer that said, "Why did they not go to Aslan directly?" Well, whichever one it was guessed part of the plot. Even Peter has to learn his lessons sometimes the hard way.**


	35. An Unwanted Partner

**--I know it seems a little unfair for Aslan to have left the animals stone, but they suffered very little. It's like falling asleep—a moment of pain, then silence for a bit, then the pain returns when you are brought back to life.**

**--For God so loved the world that he _gave_ his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.**

**--A "turret" is the topmost point of a castle, a tower—its mostly used as the structure word, not like a "room". **

**--I can't believe it! I'm already 35 chapters along! I couldn't have gotten so far without you all. Thanks.**

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**Chapter 35, an Unwanted Partner**

Edmund and I had no idea how to free the animals, but we knew now we had to rely on Aslan, rather than our own strength. It's harder for me to surrender things like that, I'd always been the one to take charge in most situations, but its something I will work on.

Edmund and I raced down the stairs of the tower, and decided in an instant to go at once where Edmund last saw the animals.

"What will we do once we get there?" panted Edmund as we rounded another bend of stairs.

"We'll just have to ask Aslan what to do!" I answered. "It's something we should have done a long time ago!"

"He's done so much for me, I can't believe that I--" Edmund started.

"I know." I interrupted. "Me too."

We arrived in our bedroom hall, and sneaked carefully past the girls doors, and went into our own rooms. We put on light leather armor, and put on jackets and boots. We almost collided in the hall (the marble floor had been recently mopped, I see!) and slipped and slid down, making our way towards the main entrance.

We skidded to a halt before running right into the doors, and inched them open.

"Where's that bell?" muttered Edmund. He located the rope suspended and gave it a tug.

Within moments, a sleepy satyr trotted into the courtyard.

"Saddle our horses, please," I said.

Satyr bowed and went his way.

Tumnus finally emerged from the castle, closing the door carefully behind him. "By the Lions Mane!" he exclaimed. "King Peter, and, King Edmund! You ought to be asleep—that was a tiring party!"

"We're on our way to the Lantern Waste," I said, glancing at Edmund.

"A little nearer to the Shuddering Wood, I think," corrected Edmund.

"Dear me!" cried Tumnus. "Dear me! Have we Giants on our borders?"

"No, thankfully," I laughed. "This is a personal mission. You will keep an eye on the girls? We don't know how long we'll be gone."

"But, you guards! Courtiers! You can't go out this time of morning alone."

"We'll be fine," Edmund said gently. "It's a task from Aslan himself."

"Then he'll protect you, then," Tumnus sighed. "Well, safe travels. You needn't worry about a thing here, Sallowpad and I have it all taken care of, and of course our Queens will be staying at home, then?"

We agreed and bid him farewell. Tumnus bowed, and staggered off sleepily. I remembered Kanna. I had to speak with Tumnus about him soon. I shouldn't keep forgetting.

Our horses were bought momentarily, (how I missed my poor unicorn!) and we galloped through the silent courtyard, under the luminous gate, and into the gray hour before dawn.

We were only just out of sight of the castle, across the straight road of about five miles, and headed for the woods—when we heard hoofbeats trotting along behind us.

"Peter," said Edmund.

"I hear it."

Without a word, we turned our horses and headed just beneath the edge of the trees. We drew our swords and waited.

The hoofbeats slowed to a walk, quite uncertainly. A figure on a dark horse pulled into view, its head going from side to side, as if looking for something. Golden hair caught in the starlight.

"No!" I whispered. "It couldn't be!"

"Is that…Lucy?" whispered Edmund apprehensively, sheathing his sword.

"No!" I wailed. "I wish it were!"

I nudged my horse forward and moved it out of the trees, and pulled in front of the other rider.

"Oh!" said the rider. "I'd thought I lost you."

"You'll wish you did when I'm through with you," I growled. "What in Aslan's name are you DOING?"

"Keeping an eye on you, that's what!"

"I have Edmund here for that, thank-you."

"I didn't come to keep an eye on you," Edmund protested. "And who is this?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" said the other rider, her voice all too familier. "It's me, Leyli!"

I groaned. "Leyli, I've a mind to send you back with the word to imprison you!"

"You girlfriend from the coronation?" hissed Edmund. "You TOLD HER?"

"No!" I snapped. "I didn't tell her anything! She's sneaky and seems to know everything!"

"That's right," laughed Leyli. "And you both rode off so hurriedly, I knew you'd forget anything to keep yourselves alive," she pulled a bag from the saddle, and held it aloft. "I've brought meager rations of food, and flint to start a fire, and a blanket for each of you."

Edmund and I didn't say a word. I wondered if his thoughts were as suicidal as mine. Not that I would do anything like that—but, well, anything but being here with my stalker.

"So, your speechless," Leyli said triumphantly. "Never thought of any of this, did you? Now are you so ready to send me and all your survival goods away?"

"Yes!" we both said.

"Oh," Leyli said quietly. I grimaced with the realization that we'd actually hurt her feelings.

"It's, it's alright," she said softly. "I was just trying to help, but, well, you don't really need me. I--" she broke off. She threw the bag to Edmund, and turned her horse, and began to walk away.

"Of all the bloody--" started Edmund.

"EDMUND!" I blurted.

"Sorry."

Leyli continued to walk away.

"Finally," whispered Edmund, pulling his horse back.

"Edmund," I said desperately. "We can't just let her leave like that."

"Oh yes we could!" cried Edmund. "Don't go soft now."

"I'm not going soft," I hissed. "There is NOTHING more than I'd like right now than to never see her again. But we're kings, remember? We're held to higher standards. We need to apologize and let her come along."

"Of all the cheek!" whispered Edmund. "Well, of course Mr. High King, if you put it that way. Go to it. Enjoy yourself. You'll regret it."

"I won't regret being a bully," I said. "Apologies should do the trick, alright?"

"Right," he replied, not very enthusiastically.

"Leyli, wait a minute," I said, riding forward.

"Yes?" she said, without her normal giggliness.

"I owe you an apology," I said hurriedly as to get it over with. "You brought us stuff we would definitely need, and we threw it in your face. We feel bad. I'm sorry?" it hadn't meant to end in a question—but, well, it did.

I hadn't realized my horse was so close to hers. She leaned across the small space, threw her arms around me, and gave me a hug. "Apology accepted!" she said, her giggle toned down a bit.

"Goodness," said Edmund, hiding his eyes.

"um," I stuttered, embarrassed beyond belief by her embrace.

Just then, something spooked her horse. With a lurch, he leaped forward. Leyli gave a short screech in my ear. And her horse, panicked, galloped madly away into the morning.

And Leyli was left hanging on my shoulders, her feet gingerly dangling above the ground.

"Oh bother!" cried Edmund. He grinned evilly at me. "You two will just have to ride double."

The mission with my only brother was slowly melting away in what looked like a midnight ride with a flirtatious girl. I gave Edmund a weak smile and hoisted Leyli up behind me. She wrapped her arms around my waist and put her head against my shoulder.

Oh, double bother! I wanted to scream and wave my hands around, anything to release the aggravation I felt!

"You just don't let me alone, do you?" I hissed towards the sea, where Aslan's country was.

"What did you say?" murmured Leyli.

"Nothing!" I said, turning my horse about and following Edmund's who briskly began to trot down the road. "You're squeezing me," I said, dryly.

"I know that," Leyli said seriously. "I don't want to fall off."

I sighed.

"When you sigh, your shoulder hits my nose," said Leyli.

"I'm _dreadfully_ sorry."

"You ARE apologetic tonight! It's adorable!"

"Oh."

"Would you mind singing me to sleep? My father always sings ME to sleep."

"I don't sing."

"Why King Peter! That's a lie! I've heard you sing."

"You couldn't have," I vaguely remembered humming to myself while I wrote in my journal.

"I have very good ears," she said softly. "And you have a very good voice."

"Oh, please!" I said exasperatingly.

"You won't sing for me?"

"No," I replied.

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Go to sleep, Leyli," I said firmly.

"Oh, very well!"

"How are YOU feeling?" Edmund asked sarcastically, pulling back a bit so that we walked side by side.

"Great," I replied, gritting my teeth and spatting out the words. "Doing…just…great!"

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**Please read and review! I hope you liked this light-hearted, (and a bit annoying) chapter.**

**And oh, what shall Peter DO now that he has unwanted company?**


	36. The Truth About Leyli

**My dear Reviewers,**

**As of Wednesday, School begins again. **

**Chapters will not only be MUCH harder to post because of the time spent at school and time spent completing homework, but I am limited to computer time during the weekdays. (I share my computer with other students).**

**I will NOT leave this story incomplete. I will finish it eventually. Posts may come weekly (on Saturdays and Sundays I have plenty of time to write) but maybe only once a week. Maybe even two weeks will pass before I can post.**

**Things will be very whirlwind-ish over the next week, maybe even month, but I will keep writing.**

**His love to all,**

**Pip**

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**Chapter 36, the Truth about Leyli**

We rode hard the rest of the night and into the next day. We ate little (if Leyli hadn't insisted we would not have stopped at all,) and after a bit, we arrived at the river.

"We have to cross!" exclaimed Edmund, dismounting and pacing back and forth, staring at the opposite shoreline like a mad animal. "Its, its just on the other side! I know it is!"

"Hold up, Ed," I said, "We'll find some way to cross. Don't worry."

"The water is very turbulent," offered Miss Obvious.

"Thank-you," snapped Edmund.

"You can't cross alone!" said Leyli, sounding triumphant.

"Alright, Leyli," Edmund whirled and crossed him arms. "What do YOU propose we do?"

Oh, Ed, you just HAD to ask, didn't you?

"Well!" Leyli laughed. "I--"

"never thought you'd ask," I finished, trying to be as annoying as much as possible.

"Why, you just finished my sentence!" exclaimed Leyli. "That…that's a sign, you know."

"I didn't mean it like that," I growled.

"Oh," she shrugged like it meant nothing to her really. "As I was SAYING," she glared at me. "Let me lead your horses across. I'm a naiad, you know, and I am very accustomed to water. They'll be perfectly calm."

"Isn't a little cold for you?" I asked, just trying to be sensible.

"That's nice of you to be concerned," said Leyli, smiling. "But it will be just perfect for me. I love cold water."

I hadn't been concerned. I was trying to be sensible!

"Right," I said, "Let's do it."

Edmund mounted his horse, and Leyli took a hold of each of the bridles, spoke something in a strange language to the horses, and led them right into the water. The horses didn't shake their heads, toss their feet, or anything frisky that most do when in water.

Leyli led them till she was completely underwater, and horses were swimming. Leyli walked along as if she were on land. I'll admit it, it WAS pretty amazing. Only because I'd never seen that before.

Soon, we were on the opposite shore, with our feet only a bit wet. Leyli was soaked to the skin, but looking every bit as happy.

"Is that what you were looking for?" Leyli said, pointing on the shore.

"Oh," said Edmund quickly, as if someone had punched his stomach. He leaped from his horse and ran forward, kneeling down before a lonesome—and very sad looking—stone fox.

I dismounted and knelt beside him. "This IS the one we ran into."

Edmund reach out and pet it's stone head, taking shallow breaths.

Suddenly, a deep voice spoke from behind us. "Is there something I can do?"

Edmund and I both whirled around. Only Leyli stood behind us.

"Did you say something?" I asked.

"Well, yes," said the same, deep voice. "Who else?"

"What happened to your voice?" Edmund asked, his eyes wide.

"My voice?" Leyli said confusedly. "oh, oh, that! You mean you don't know?"

"No!" we both exclaimed.

"Oh," laughed Leyli. This time, her laugh resembled nothing like a giggle. It was a deep, womanly laugh, that was short and…well, deep!

"Well," Leyli said, sounding queenly and grown up. "I'll try my best to explain. You see, us naiads, we live in wells, you know."

"Yes…" Edmund said.

"I haven't been in a well for ever so long," said Leyli, "I've been living near the palace. But water is what keeps me…well, normal."

"Define normal," I said, truly perplexed.

"Um…" Leyli sounded so old! "Let's see…normal is like this. My voice is much deeper, and I am much smarter, and more thoughtful. We're all like that."

"I'm not following," Edmund said truthfully.

"You may have noticed that while I'm on land," Leyli continued, playing with her dress, which was blue. It had been green moments before. "I giggle a lot. And…I'm flirty. And I seem a little dim-witted. That's what happens to me when I've been on land for so long."

"Oh!" we both said. Edmund and I glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

"This is the real me!" said Leyli, smiling, her eyes sparkling. "Being in the water for a moment or two gets me back to normal."

"Like Dad having his coffee in the morning," Edmund said.

"Coffee?" asked Leyli. "What's coffee?"

"It's like…" Edmund raised his hands in helplessness.

"Coffee for humans," I said, helping Ed out. "Is like water for naiads. But…well, not really, it's a little different--"

"Say no more," Leyli waved her hand. "Or I'll need another dip. I suppose I was very annoying when I was dehydrated, wasn't I?"

"To put it lightly," Edmund said.

"That is embarrassing," Leyli said, shaking her head at herself. "I can't remember very well what I do when I am so low on water. I should never have gone so long without a dip in the river or a dunk in my well-home."

"Well," Edmund blinked. "There certainly is a difference!"

Leyli's sunshiny-coloured hair was fading into a dark, chocolate brown. And her eyes turned gray.

"Good Lord!" I exclaimed.

"Is my hair back?" asked Leyli.

"I suppose…it must be."

"Finally!" Leyli stood. "I think I'm through changing. Go on and do what you need to do. I won't be such a hindrance any more, goodness knows I'll never make the mistake of going so long without water again."

"We certainly hope so," I said, standing.

"Now what?" Edmund said hopelessly. "Our naiad has gone and turned herself into a grownup—that's good news. But what can we do about the fox?"

"Well, let's ask Aslan," I said.

Edmund clasped his hand behind his back and bowed his head. "Aslan, we need your help." He said simply. "Please bring the stone animals back to life."

"Yes, please," I added.

"Look," whispered Leyli.

A white bird, no bigger than a dove, came flying from the sky. It flew in an arch over the clearing, than alighted on the back of the stone fox.

Within a blink of an eye, the bird was gone. It didn't fly away. It simply disappeared.

And the fox's ear twitched. A bright orange colour began at the tip of its nose, than spread down and over its shoulders. It's legs wiggled with life. His tail burst into life, its white tip swinging back lazily. White and black spread over its muzzle and paws. It's eyes blinked.

The fox gasped, shook itself, and stared up at Edmund.

"Your majesty," he said hoarsely, bowing. "I knew you would return for me."

"How…how could I forget you?" Edmund dropped to his knees again and hugged the fox.

"Why sire," the fox wiggled a little. "All is forgiven, all is forgiven. Is the Witch…?"

"Dead," answered Edmund, a smile spreading across his face. "We're in a free Narnia, now, Mr. Fox. Your free to return to your family."

"Thank-you, sire," the fox bowed again. He smiled at me. "Thank-you, SIRES. Thank-you a thousand times! Long live Aslan!" with that, he bounded away into the bushes.

"Whew," I said. "That was amazing."

"Who was the white bird, do you think?" Edmund asked.

"Oh…I think I know." I winked.

Edmund smiled. "Do you think it will come back and help the Christmas party in the woods?"

"I'm sure He will," I said. "Come on, Leyli. We've got one more stop to make before we head home."

"Do you mind if I ride with you?" Leyli asked shyly. "Please?" she remembered to add.

"Why, of course, since you asked so nicely," I said, smiling. "I think I can handle this new Leyli."

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**As we all know, the white bird was Aslan. Lol. And I ain't makin' that up either—just check out Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Aslan appears in that book as a Lion, a Lamb, a Sail, and a White Bird--maybe even more. **

**Yay! The Fox is rescued! He'll come and visit the rulers of Narnia later.**

**And isn't Leyli nice now? She won't be bothering Peter much. It's something ALL naiads need to remember to do—if you don't live in your well, you have to remember to dunk yourself once in a while. You don't want to get dehydrated and act like Leyli did—it's most annoying. Lol.**

**This is my last day of vacation. Remember, it may be my last posting till next weekend--depending on how busy I am and how much homework my teacher will hand out. **

**(PS) for those of you who like Phantom of the Opera; me and my friends have this inside joke that my teacher, Mr. D, is secretly the Phantom himself. He has a DEEP VOICE and yells ALL the time. We even made up an opera...it goes something like this...**

**"Do you want a detention?"**

**"Of course not!"**

**"I'm going to give you a detention!"**

**"Of course not!"**

**--sing that to the tune of "Notes" from POTO. **

**Anyways, I thought that might make some of you laugh. It's something to entertain you during this new school year--find which of your teacher is MOST like characters from musicals or operas. the result is halarious.**

**To an amazing summer!**

**the Pippin!**


	37. Another Truth about Leyli

**To the Reviewers!**

**Your input was totally inspiring, as usual. Without you all there would BE no story. **

**And thanks to some of you who remembered the poor butterfly. No worries. I left it out for a little urgency in this chapter.**

**You may remember Lewis states, "And they stamped out the last bit of the Witch's army." Then he says something about, "A hag there, a werewolf here, a killing there." That's not a direct quote, but something like that. **

**Well, you may have noticed I left out any remnants of the Witch's army that escaped without forhead mark or going to prison. **

**But that's just so we can have a little excitement later, for goodness sake. –evil laugh…………**

**with His love,**

**Pippin**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 37, another Truth about Leyli**

We'd only brought our horses so far, maybe twenty yards or so through a few thickets, when Edmund suddenly shouted, "Stop, stop!"

"What!" I responded, pulling my horse abruptly to a stop. Edmund didn't stop like he suggested, but wheeled in a horrifying turn (the horse looked like it might tip over or break a rib) and dashed madly from the direction he had come.

"Wait!" I called. "Wait up, Ed!" Leyli clutched me around the waist.

I followed him close behind until he reined his horse and leapt from the saddle before it had quite stopped. He landed in a heap and ran to the center of the clearing. It was the exact clearing where the fox had been which we left only moments before.

"What is this all about?" I pulled in and dismounted, handing the reins to Leyli. Thinking quickly, she nudged the horse into a trot to move alongside Edmund's horse, panting heavily, and grabbed its loose rein.

"I'd almost forgotten!" cried Edmund, laughing with relief. "The dove touched him too."

"Him WHO?" I asked, kneeling next to him. Edmund was peering down at a butterfly. A butterfly! Of all the cheek…

"You nearly killed your horse," I said seriously.

"Oh, hardly," scoffed Edmund. "I couldn't leave this one behind."

The butterfly was nestled in the grass, testing its wings, which turned from gray to orange. With each melting of the stone bits, its wings flapped harder.

"Come on," hissed Edmund, carefully nudging it from behind, giving it a little lift. The butterfly pushed itself up, wriggled a moment, and then soared upward and into the sky.

"Well, that's that," I said, giving Ed a hand up. "You've done YOUR good deeds for the day."

"Sure," Edmund smiled and turned. "Leyli—had you got m'horse?" he broke off and stared forward.

I turned and could see what he was seeing.

Leyli was staring at us with a confused look. "Well?" she asked, wondering if Edmund was going to finish or not.

She couldn't see a row of ravenous, saliva-dripping wolves lined behind her, in the formation of attack.

"Leyli," I said calmly. "Bring the bloody horses over here."

Leyli chirruped to the horses and brought them up. More wolves darted from the underbrush and joined the line. It continued in a circular formation…they were planning to trap us in the clearing.

In a flash I was on my horse, Edmund was on his, and the wolves leapt to us, howling with teeth bared and tongues lolling.

Leyli cried out with the realization of the creatures hidden beneath the bramble. Our horses shot forward and with a startled scream, broke from the clearing and thundered out of the branches. We guided them across another clearing, over a bit of blackberry vines, and into a meadow with sparse trees scattered around.

The wolves stayed close on our heals.

Suddenly Leyli shouted in my ear, "Peter! Wait! Stop! Edmund fell!"

Edmund had been riding only a foot or two behind, I thought I would have seen it. Just as I slowed to turn, it gave the wolves enough chance to overtake the horse. They leapt atop it and bit at its heals. As my horse reared and neighed in terror, I fell backwards into the swarm of wolves. Before I could hit the ground, I saw Edmund far ahead…he was still on his horse, and he was just turning to see _me. _

I hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud and flipped over on my head, screwing my neck at an awful angle and landing straight a top the back of a wolf, crushing it to the ground. The wolf scrambled and limped out of the way. My horse bolted in fright and shot out of sight, Leyli sitting upon the ground, looking nearly calm at just being tossed from a horse. Edmund was galloping towards me.

Things were bleary as I saw the gray throngs of hairy, dirty bodies surrounding me in a quick circle, barking. Another circle took advantage of Edmund's return, chewed the horse until it fled from all existence, and surrounded Edmund when he fell to the ground directly on his backside.

The wolves paid absolutely no attention to Leyli.

Almost at once, I knew we had been betrayed.

"Welcome, Stranger," said the first wolf, sneering and licking his fangs. "This is a fine surprise. Or else…not so surprising. We're happy to welcome you to our end of the woods."

"You expected us, then," I said hoarsely, staring at Leyli. She had a look of sympathy, even fright, but she stood and came to me.

"Yes," she said, giving a half-smile that looked very sad. "You were expected."

"You traitor!" exclaimed Edmund in shock. "And a Narnian, too."

Leyli look pained. "If that's how you look at me." She held out a hand, whispering, "Can I help you up, Peter?"

I shoved her hand out of my face and struggled to my knees. "No," I managed. "Thanks. You've done enough!" black dots swam before my eyes as I managed to stand. The two circles of wolves gathered together, and Edmund rushed over and stood next to me, breathing hard.

"Are we going to die?" he whispered. It didn't sound like the question he would normally ask. I looked down at him.

"Die?" I asked. "No, we're not going to die. I don't know what will happen."

"Alright, alright," interrupted Leyli. "Enough. Let's hear the terms of the wolves."

"Right," sneered the wolf. "Our terms."

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**Leyli is just one pile of confusion, isn't she? First she's annoying, then she's cool, and now she is your first choice for murder. Lol. **

**Read and Review, my dears!**

**PS: How was school this week?**


	38. Switching Loyalties

**Chapter 38, Switching Loyalties**

We waited for a moment or two. The wolves were silent, looking at each other with glinting eyes as if wondering who was going to speak first.

"Go on!" said Leyli in a commanding voice, kicking the largest wolf. He snapped his teeth and looked at me and Edmund.

"The terms be," said the wolf, his grammar improper but nonetheless sounding threatening. I was growing angrier by the minute seeing how Leyli seemed to be their ringleader.

"We let you go free, see," he continued. "And we get our own little corner of Narnia. Our own land, freedom, and no allegiance to Your Majesties," he spat this out mockingly. "In exchange for your lives."

"Can we go back home and think about it?" Edmund said, almost sarcastically.

"No, no," the wolf laughed, his fangs yellow under a curling lip. "Until you decide what you'll grant us, you'll remain our prisoners."

"Um…okay." Edmund shrugged and looked at me helplessly. I wanted to curse and scream as loud as possible—Edmund and I had both left our swords tied to the saddle. And our horses were miles away by now.

"Well?" Leyli broke the silence. "What say you?"

"I'll think about it," I snapped. "Everyone deserves their freedom—but I am NOT in the mood to barter with my life, understood?" I had never shouted at her before. For a moment she looked like the old Leyli—hurt and confused. The feeling vanished in an instant and her face looked peeved. "Well," she said crisply, "Until you decide what to do, you'll have to stay with us. To the caves," she commanded. With that, the wolves formed a triangular formation around us, and we began a slow march towards a series of small foothills. Leyli walked stately in the very front.

Within the hour, we had reached the foothills. Unlike the rest of Narnia, they were very small, brown, and sparse vegetation grew in clumps. The corner was only about a mile or so wide, a previous location of some battle or something that left it a burnt-out feeling. The contrast of sunny woods and green fields to the left and right of the brown, ugly hill was vivid and dead-looking.

We passed under an overhanging of red rocks and into a gloomy, wide, brown cave. The wolves left their formation, and scattered to the back area, where some food supposedly lay. The sound of eating greedily and scuffling over the best meat were heard from the mass of dogs.

"Sit down or something," hissed Leyli. "Over there." She pointed to the far right wall. Edmund and I looked at each other and shrugged. What else could we do? Our weapons had been stupidly left behind, and we couldn't fight a dozen or two dozen wolves and a slippery fish woman.

Another hour passed. Edmund drew pictures in the dust. I stared out the cave entrance, wishing to see a band of horses emerging from the trees, blaring a trumpet. Leyli paced back and forth for a while, then finally settled at the opposite wall, scribbling into a book of parchment leaves with a quill pen. It wasn't until her attention was diverted until Edmund and I whispered in low tones to each other.

"I can't believe that traitor," I muttered, repeated Edmund's words.

Edmund nodded fervently. "Yeah. Traitor." Suddenly he choked on his words. "Peter. She's a _traitor_."

"Yes, I know," I said slowly. "That's what I just said."

"Peter!" Edmund's voice sounded desperate. "Listen to what I am saying. She. Is. A. Traitor."

My mind rewound in a flash. I saw the Witch, empowered in a cape of white, pointing to my brother.

"That human traitor," her words echoed in my brain.

"Oh," was all I said.

It was quiet for some time.

"She could change," Edmund said presently.

"Yeah," I said. I felt very different about it now. She's only a good person gone bad. She couldn't be too far gone. She's never said anything about hurting us. "Traitors can mend."

Edmund winced and looked at her. "She shouldn't have to go through this."

"Hmm?"

"It's not worth it. She'll understand later…someday. But it really, truly, isn't worth it."

He sounded so much older and wiser than I could ever be.

"Leyli," I said, looking towards her.

She looked up. Her face was streaked with tears. "What?"

"Why did you do this?" I asked.

Leyli only sniffed. Stupid girls. They think tears are so cute and that it will soften a man to do just about anything.

"Answer his question," Edmund offered.

"Oh, I don't know!" cried Leyli. "Don't ask me questions! Can't I explain it to you later?"

"What if there is no later?" I replied.

"You don't plan to agree, then," she stated flatly.

"No," Edmund and I said at the same time. We didn't even need to discuss it. It was obvious the wolves had ties to the Witch. All evil must be wiped out forever.

"All my plans," whispered Leyli, throwing her book to the ground. "All ruined!"

"Plans?" I asked.

"Oh, you wouldn't care," Leyli pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "You never cared. From the moment I met you, you were annoyed with me and hated me. All you could do was be polite. You didn't bother to get to know me. You could've gotten past my bouncy ways. But no! You labeled me and saw my label for the rest of your filthy days!"

"Well let me be honest with you!" I replied angrily. "I don't like girls that flirt and dance and do everything short of a…a…American club singer!"

"Whatever that means," cried Leyli. "Let's just say it drove me to madness. All I wanted was your approval. I just wanted to know my King appreciated my ways of making the world feel like a lighter, happier place. Its all I ever wanted."

"I DO appreciate your calling to make things happier," I protested. "I do! I saw how you made our subjects happy. But you shoved it in my face and rubbed it around. It was totally overbearing. I COULDN'T see past all your silly ways to see what a kind motive you had!"

"I don't know anymore." Leyli, abruptly changing the subject. "I don't know why I've done this."

"What DID you do, exactly?" sighed Edmund exasperatingly.

Leyli shook her head. "You just don't understand. I thought you trusted me. I thought you would only believe this was for your own good."

"Our own GOOD?" Edmund wailed.

"Yes!" Leyli jumped to her feet. "I came along to protect you both. That's what I intend to do."

"By having us captured?" I exclaimed.

Leyli glanced at the wolves. They weren't listening. They were still busy with their last kill.

"It was the only way to protect you," she said mysteriously.

"Define protect," spat Edmund.

"Do you realize," Leyli offered, "That my father worked for the White Witch?"

"No."

"He was under her pay. At his death, and at hers, I was expected to continue his work." She strided across the cave floor and knelt in front of us, whispering excitedly. "They all trusted me already because of my father. I've been working for them—or rather, leading them. They do all the dirty work. I've done nothing."

"Except this," I said.

"Whatever!" Leyli continued. "I've been working from the inside, delivering anonymous information to Aslan, while he was here, and to whoever was in charge of the rebel Narnian army.

"Don't you see? I've been working FOR you. That's my own twisted logic, take it or leave it. The wolves were planning an attack on Cair Paravel with their own army. I convinced them I'd bring them the Kings if they'd only spare the castle."

"What your saying," I said unbelievingly.

"Shh," hissed Leyli. "Don't say anything. I'm already out on a limb telling you this. I've arrange for them to transport you to their own secret hideout. I don't even know where it is. When you are delivered, I'll arrange for your escape. You can't attack their hideout and stamp out the REST of the Witch's army if you don't know where it is, can you?"

"I suppose not," started Edmund, his eyes wide.

"I wasn't going to tell you until we reached the hideout," Leyli said exasperatingly. "You just had to give me this whole traitor deal. The look on your faces broke my heart."

We were silent.

We didn't know if she was telling the truth or plotting our own deaths.


	39. Love & Old Friends

**Muahahaha. I loved the reviews. You are all annoyed, confused, and whatever about Leyli. That means I'm doing my job.**

**Ultimately, I based her character on Jack Sparrow. Insane (but could be smart if she tried) and constantly switching sides to make sure she was safe, and in the mean time, protect a few friends. But she still may come out on the wrong side, depends on how things go. I hope you like this chapter.**

**Toodles!**

**Fool of a Took**

* * *

**Chapter 39, Encounters of Love and old friends**

I had been dreaming about returning home to Susan and Lucy when Leyli shook me awake.

I opened my eyes and saw her. She looked blue in the odd moonlight, and it looked like we were in some sort of underwater cave. With a sigh, I closed my eyes again. It looked barely midnight. I didn't even remember falling asleep. Vaguely I remembered Edmund and I trying to sleep away hunger. We hadn't eaten since morning.

"Peter," said Leyli, trying to lift my head.

"Ow!" I whispered loudly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Don't touch me."

"Are you hurt?" she asked carefully.

"Yes," I hissed. "As a matter of fact, I am. I didn't exactly land off a horse gently. I could have very well broken my neck."

"I am sorry," pleaded Leyli. "Please get up. The wolves have gone out for a moment, to howl at the moon, you know, and mourn for the Witch."

I shivered at the thought. They were sounding less like a pack of animals and more like a Satanist cult.

"I don't feel like getting up," I said honestly. "Really. My head feels like a balloon."

"Very well," Leyli said, kneeling in front of me. She stared at me.

"What?" I exclaimed. Edmund stirred slightly.

"Oh hush," Leyli said. "I…I was hoping to discuss means for your escape."

"Why don't you let us go now," I offered. "And YOU follow them to the hideout. Then you can return and tell us. Savvy?"

"Savvy what?"

"Oh, bother. It's a British term. You wouldn't understand."

"Fine. No, I cannot free you just now. You are my responsibility. If you escape, we may see the wolves turn against me. Plus, there is no REASON to go to the hideout if we have no captives to take. Savvy?" she curled into an evil grin.

"Oh, _savvy._" I rolled my eyes.

"So no one wins." Leyli finished, sitting back on her heals. "We're stuck. You want to go home, I want to quite pretending. But we both want to know where the hideout is, don't we?"

"I say it's my responsibility as King," I snapped. "And its my job to flush them out. Not yours."

"However you want to see it," Leyli said, holding out her hand towards my face.

I shrunk back against the rock.

"Your afraid of me, aren't you?" she said, her voice sounding a little…off.

"Actually, I'm not," I said sarcastically, "But I prefer a little distance."

"I don't." she said honestly.

I noticed something different. With the moonlight shining in, her hair flowed in a sort of blue brilliancy. Her eyes glittered beautifully. Her gaze looked hopeless and wanting. I admit it, she looked gorgeous, but it was then I realized that she must have feelings for me. The way she looked and moved screamed "I'm in love with peeeeter! I'm in love with peeeeter!"

Awkward.

There was a silence. I stared at her, silently screaming to Aslan. _"Why me?"_

"Peter," Leyli said in a strange voice.

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing, snapping, or screaming in frustration.

Good thing we were in an incredibly romantic situation. A King, a girl on both sides, a moonlit cave…

"Are you in love with me?"

I opened my mouth to say "what?" and shut it again. She certainly wasn't normal, was she?

"Well, no." I said bluntly.

She leaned forward. "Every day since you thought I had betrayed you has been like torture."

No…no…no! Not one of those "rejection" monologues.

"Your like…everything I've ever wanted to be," she said softly. "You're talented, kind, strong…everything. It has only been an honor of honors to be in your service."

"Might I add you were in the service of a Witch, too?" I said bitterly. "Did you tell her how honorable it was to work for HER?"

"Well, she is in fact _female," _Leyli laughed outright. "I haven't told her anything of the sort. And I don't plan to. She is, IN FACT, dead."

I laughed too. "This is…weird."

"What does weird mean?"

"Figure it out." _Wake up now. Wake up now. It's a nightmare. Only a nightmare._

"So you don't love me?"

"Do I have to answer?"

"Yes."

"No. I don't."

Leyli stood abruptly, silent. She strutted to the other side of the cave and plopped down, staring out the opening.

"We could have been friends," I tried. "I was willing to risk a friendship in all this, you know. Even if I couldn't trust which side you were on. Either way, you sure know how to make things difficult."

"No!" she said sarcastically. "Really? Tell me something I don't know."

"I like spaghetti," I burst out. That hadn't even meant to come out. It just did.

Leyli stared at me like I was completely insane. Maybe I was. Anything to make her NOT like me.

She didn't speak to me for the rest of the time I stayed awake.

Thank the Lion.

I awoke to a brutal slap across the face. I shouted and shot upward and almost knocked heads with Edmund, who had been awaked the same way.

A horrible, grim woman stood before us. She had long, long wisps of gray hair hanging from her head. Her nose was long and crooked. Her fingers were bony with incredibly long nails. She looked like a very old woman returning from the dead.

"Time to awaken," her voice cackled. "We're off today."

She turned her back and hobbled towards the pack of wolves, stretching and barking.

"What was that?" I exclaimed, pressing a hand to the bruise forming on my face.

Edmund shook himself and stood. "An old Hag. Come on." He held out a hand and helped me up.

We stood there uncomfortably. Leyli passed by, not even looking at us, but whispered, "Remember our plan."

"Right," Edmund said. He turned to me. "Peter, are you alright?"

I rubbed my neck and watched Leyli. "As well as can be expected."

I will not describe the journey we took. We thought we were going to leave the cave. Rather, and much to our surprise, we were led further back. A rock was removed to reveal a crawlspace. We went through and found ourselves in an underground labyrinth.

This went on for hours, going through the maze. At the end of it was a smaller cavern, set up nearly as well as a stone castle. Openings with iron gates served at dungeons, which we found out quickly. The rest was strewn with weapons and crates of supplies.

"Separate them," said the hag.

"No," said Leyli quickly. "They'll agree to comply with our wishes if they are left together."

"Separate them," the hag repeated, her eyes turning red and glaring at Leyli. So Leyli wasn't the only leader. And she was a lower one, too. Good thing she failed to mention this before.

"No," I said quickly, grabbing Edmund's shoulder.

"Don't--" Leyli started.

With a knock to the head from something, everything went black.

Waking up this time was like waking up from a hangover. Or rather, what I imagined a hangover to be like.

I groaned and crawled to the iron barred door and peered through. There was a flurry of activity going on. My prison was on a wall slightly slanted, and Edmund's was next to mine. From this angle, I could see inside of his.

"Edmund," I whispered.

"You okay?" he called quietly, peering through the bars.

"Yeah."

"You'll never guess who's sharing MY cell."

So Edmund wanted to brag now? I would laugh if my head didn't hurt so much.

"No, I could never guess. Who?"

"Good afternoon, King Peter," said a whispery, throaty voice.

Kanna!

"What are you doing in there?" I gasped. I could see the tips of his horns emerging from between the bars.

"Aslan moves in many strange ways," Kanna said mysteriously. I imagined him licking his lips and swaying slightly. "I came here for whatever reason he has for me."

"Maybe helping us?" Edmund said hopefully.

"Possibly." Kanna melted back into the shadows. "Old father hermit probably told you my entire history, did he not?"

"Some of it," Edmund said hesitantly.

"These are my adversaries," said Kanna, with a touch of bitterness in his voice. "This is the same group who tortured and mutilated my group…back in the time of Rebellion against the Witch. I have never forgotten them."

"I wouldn't either," Edmund said kindly. "It must have taken courage to be captured by them—especially at Aslan's command."

"A leap of faith," muttered Kanna. "A leap of faith." I pictured him rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Where is Leyli?" I said presently.

"Over there," Edmund's small hand pointed to the left. "With that nasty old hag."

I also noticed there were more hags than before. Nearly six of them. All gray, all willow-like. Leyli stood out in her green dress and brown hair, which had turned lighter in the last few hours. I hoped she'd get her dip in a river or something soon.

"I want to go home," Edmund muttered. "We know where the hideout is now. Can't Leyli get us out? Oh, we should have left when the wolves left her to guard us!"

I remembered her proclamation of love with a twinge of embarrassment.

Suddenly Kanna whispered through the bars, "King Peter, have you a small window in your cell?"

I craned my sore neck back and looked. No.

"Nothing," I replied.

Kanna hissed something. "We have to get you into ours. There is a window in ours. We can escape from here. It leads back to the labyrinth."

"Oh, fabulous." I said. Good thing the hag insisted we were separated.

"We have to think of a plan." Edmund said determinedly.

* * *

**Well, hoped you liked this chapter. Twas a little longah than usual. I can't wait to hear your reviews. **

**PS: I watched the Mask of Zorro last night for the first time. Was anybody else _completely_ disturbed by the head in the jar? Or am I just a pansy?**


	40. A Change of Plans

**I've noticed my reviews have gone down a bit. Where's Capegio, Reepicheepet, elektrum, and the rest? If there's something you don't like about the stories, let me know! I like it when ya'll stick around! **

**PS: If Leyli's annoyance drove you off, no worries, she won't be here for LONG. Her end is coming! MUHAHAHA!**

**And so….to continue…..**

**the Pip

* * *

**

**Chapter 40, A Change of Plans**

There was a silence as we sat in the damp, cold cavern, pondering our current situation. I took a moment to see my surroundings.

The outside had nothing interesting. My cell was nearly six feet wide, and about four feet deep. The ceiling was uneven and rocky, with bits of root sticking out like fingers.

"Peter," Edmund's voice whispered urgently. "Pretend you are dead."

"What?"

"Do it NOW."

I knew by his tone of voice that whatever he was thinking, it was either a good idea or something random he had come up with for some sort of service. I slumped against the wall where I had woken up and closed my eyes.

"Good afternoon Leyli," Edmund said sarcastically. Leyli's feet made hardly any noise as she approached my cell.

"Hasn't he awakened yet?" she asked worriedly. Oh, please.

"No," Edmund said sourly. "My own brother could be dead and I can't even see him."

"Oh!" said Leyli quickly as if something had hit her. "Guard?"

"Yes'm," said a low voice. I recognized a deep, throaty voice of a Minotaur. How many were in hiding? How could so many escape? Maybe they never went to battle. Maybe she sent reserves to the caves in case her assault had gone wrong.

"Put the Narnian king in the other cell. He is no good to us dead—we need him awake for negotiation."

"Leyli!" shrieked the Hag's voice. "Don't you dare!"

"I know how to handle this," Leyli shot back. "I've been in charge long before we recruited a wispy old mop like you. Do as I say."

"Are you threatening my authority here?"

"Are you threatening _mine_?"

"Oh, forget the whole thing, you old mermaid. Go drown yourself."

"Naiads don't drown," offered Leyli, sounding pleased at winning the argument.

The cell door clanged open. Rough hands grasped me by the shoulders and dragged me through the dusty floor. I concentrated at keeping myself limp and appearing unconscious.

The minotaur (or something very much like one) threw me harshly to the ground, landing nearly on top of Edmund. He scrambled out of the way and I lay there, seemingly lifeless.

"Try and wake him up," said Leyli in a sad, desperate voice. "Call for me if he needs something."

Edmund dragged me back into the shadows of his cell. His was deeper than mine had been.

"Alright, they've all turned their backs."

I leaned against the wall and opened my eyes. "Good form, Ed! They jolly well fell for that one."

"Are you hurt?"

"Well, my neck doesn't hurt anymore, thank the lion—but my head hurts."

Edmund reached over and patted my shoulder sympathetically. "Too bad I've got nothing for that. Leyli could always--"

"No," I said quickly, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. "I've had enough of that—that fish woman."

"So!" squeaked a voice. We looked up and saw that the Hag was watching us through the bars. "You are awake. That was quick." She raised a gray eyebrow. "So…are you going to give us the land? Have you thought of our proposition?"

"No," Edmund and I said at the same time.

"I mean, NO, we're not giving you any land," I clarified. "It's not yours. You have no right to it. Go back to Ettinsmoor where you belong."

"Ettinsmoor holds no power for us," said the Hag. "Narnia is the greatest empire in this world."

Kanna shook his head at her, his crooked hand touching his tiny horns as if he were thinking deeply.

"I have a new idea," the Hag said, not only to us, but a loud announcement to the whole cavern of busily looking wolves and minotaur, who had been recently joined by a few black dwarves. Everyone stopped their work to listen.

"They won't give us the land," said the Hag gleefully, her crooked teeth sticking out in some form of a grin. "But maybe their sisters will."

Edmund clapped his hand over his mouth. I jumped to my feet. "No! Leave them out of this! We'll come to some sort of an agreement--"

"Oh, it's too late for that," the Hag sneered. "You had your chance. Now you've endangered your sisters. YOU SISTERS--" she spoke in a voice so loud it shook the floor. "MUST agree to give us the Northeastern corner of Narnia for our own to rule—or you will both die."

"That was never part of our agreement!" cried Leyli. "That's putting their sisters in a most fearsome situation--"

"That's exactly my point, my dear," the Hag laughed. "I'm sure that _Queen Susan the Gentle_ would most gladly give us Narnia for her brothers lives. And I don't think even _Valiant little Lucy_ could save you from the stake."

"No!" I shouted, running to the gate and beating my fist against it once. "You can't do that! They…they have no power to grant you this. Only the males can do it."

"That's the treatment you are used to in your darling Britain," mocked Hag. "Oh yes, yes; I know where you truly come from. It is different here in Narnia than it is in your old little home. You're not even true Narnians. You don't deserve to rule here. If we can rule our own independent country, all who are really loyal to the crown can join us. And then what can stop us? No one. Not you" she pointed to me. "Or that special little goat who claims to have visions of lions and poor little peasants in need." She pointed to Kanna, who only watched silently, his lips pursed together and blinking steadily.

I feel silent. Now the girls were going to be dragged into all of this.

"Oquz," said the Hag. "You have King Peter's horse?"

"Yes," said a minotaur. "We found him grazing outside the cave. He bore this." He handed her my beloved sword from Father Christmas. Oh, if only we could go back to THAT…

"Aha," cackled the Hag. "Put the sword back on the horse. Place this letter in its saddlebag," she handed him a sheet of parchment. "It will give the Queenies instructions for what we want."

"Yes, ma'am," said Oquz.

"And then," continued the Hag. "Streak the saddle with blood and send it back to Cair Paravel."

"Yes, ma'am," said Oquz. "Where shall I get the blood?" he looked towards our cell greedily. Edmund went pale.

Quicker than a flash of light, the Hag whisked a dagger from the folds of her gray cloak. With a flick of her wrist, the dagger embedded itself into the chest of a surprised dwarf who had been standing next to her. He slumped to the floor, dead.

"There's your blood!" screamed the Hag. "Now go!"

Oquz dragged the dwarf body away and left for the entrance of the cave.

"Please," I said desperately once it grew quiet again. "Please don't bring the girls into all this. We'll reconsider a new offer--"

"Silence," shrieked the Hag. She lumbered away.

Leyli stood still next to our cell.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's not turning out even how YOU wanted it, huh?" sneered Edmund.

"This is all your fault," I whispered, kicking the wall. I bit my lip to keep from cursing.

"Enough," said Kanna suddenly. He stood on shaking hooves and clip-clopped to the cell gate. "You are very sorry, aren't you, my daughter?"

"Very much," Leyli's eyes brimmed with tears. "I wish I'd never tried to help them capture the wolves. I never knew--" she stopped and could not continue. I couldn't bear to look at her. I wanted to hate her. I knew I could never really truly hate someone, but when she cried she looked too much like Susan and at that moment, I didn't want a soft heart.

"You will have to pay dearly for this," Kanna said gently. He pressed his hands together and swayed from side to side. "But you must be prepared for the consequences, and we will try and help you in any way we can."

"Thank-you," Leyli reached between the bars and touched his hand lightly, then turned and walked quickly away, wiping the trace of tears from her face.

I turned to look at Edmund and say something mean and nasty about her, but his own focus was at the ground. And his own eyes were filling with tears.

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**Read and Review my dear reviewers! Let me know what you think. I have the whole rest of this story pre-written in my head, but nothing is quite finalized. If any of you have ideas, go ahead and write some up.**

**God bless!**


	41. Escape at Last

**LAUGHS EVILLY**

**I have so many plans for this story, I wrote a chapter for like, 20 chapters from now, in History class, when I supposed to work on a paper about Louisa May Alcott—(the author of Little Women, but I prefer to remember her as the author of "Little Men" lol. Good book.).**

**But still…the "Grand Idea" won't be around till chapter 62 or so. MUAHAHA.

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**Chapter 41, Escape at Last**

"Cheer up, Ed," I said quietly, wondering how I was staying calm even in this. "We'll get out of this somehow."

"That's not why I'm mad," Edmund sniffed. "I'm scared for the girls. I thought we could get out of this and go back to them. I never was able to free the Christmas Party, either."

"Hmm?" for the life of me, I could not remember what he meant.

"Oh, the other group of animals having a party," Edmund laid his head sideways and looked at me. "The Witch turned them to stone."

"Ah? So you remembered them, did you?" Kanna looked at him through searching eyes. "They knew you were responsible."

"What do you mean?" asked Edmund, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Well, someone had to pray for Aslan to send the Dove, did you not?" Kanna smiled to himself and pressed his fingertips together. "When the Dove alighted on them, they all laughed and drank to the King's health."

"You mean they are…saved?" asked Edmund, a smile brightening his dirty face.

Kanna nodded, but did not respond. There was nothing more to be said—Edmund was, to say the least, more cheered than I could have ever made him. And I knew Kanna was telling the truth.

Suddenly Leyli was at the gate again, handing Kanna something through the bars (he stood closest to the door).

"Finally," said Edmund.

Food!

Kanna passed out the hunks of bread, and nodded gratefully to Leyli as she passed in a flask of water, and three small (though rather wrinkly) apples.

"Thank-you," I said seriously. Kanna's kindness to her shamed me.

"Make it last," Leyli said, wiping her hands down the folds of her blue dress. "I wasn't suppose to feed you anything." She turned away quickly and ran.

"Let's just eat the bread now," Edmund added. "And have a sip of water. We can save the apples."

We followed his idea, and the slight dizziness and disorientated we hardly realized we had slowly left our bodies. Our fatigue lessened, and we all felt more ready for whatever we could do to escape.

Suddenly, a wrenching scream swept through the cavern. "Oh!" cried the voice of the Hag. "They are forming their army! They're near the lantern waste!"

We grinned.

"Get the prisoners," she shrieked. "We needn't kill them yet. Only if they are serious."

The Minotaur, tall and the colour of mud, opened our cell. He jerked Edmund out first and slammed the gate again. He tied Edmund's wrists behind his back, then followed that exampled with Kanna, and then I.

Bound and breathing hard with anticipation, we were left alone momentarily while everyone scrambled about gathering weapons.

"We weren't prepared for battle," Leyli said smugly to the Hag. "We should have stuck with the original plan!"

The Hag smiled. "This will serve us yet!"

We were surprised when instead of leading us through the entrance to the maze, a stone was rolled away to the left, and it led directly outside.

The sight of the sunshine was startling and nearly blinded us—but it made us smile nonetheless. I knew everything was going to be alright somehow.

"This way," roared the Hag, and then we were on our way.

I needn't explain the scenery. That would be boring.

Within the hour, we were led to a hill top. It was sparse and sea-shore like, with a few scrub trees and large, white boulders. Below, nestled in a little valley, lay the moving crowd of our beautiful army. I could see Oreius's sword glinting in the sunlight. It made me incredibly homesick.

"Sit here," said a short, stumpy man (more dwarf-like than any but much taller). We sat with our backs against the cool rock (our backs towards the valley) and the Stump man settled a short distance off, fingering his axe and watching us through beady eyes.

Kanna turned to me suddenly. "Say nothing. Do nothing. Follow me."

I nodded.

Kanna reached up carefully, pretending to itch a terrible itch under his curly hair. "Terrible bugs," he said practically, sounding very much like Tumnus. "So uncomfortable!" within a short second, his horn (peeking from the curls) had sawn off his wrist-rope.

Kanna shrugged back against the rock, bringing his hands down, folding them in his lap. They still had the appearance of being tied, but I knew they were loose enough to slip from.

By and by, the rebellion had scrambled a bit father up the hill, discussing battle plans out of our earshot.

"Please!" called Kanna. "Water?"

The guard snorted. "Right, goaty, a little water for your dirty tongue?" He made his way slowly towards us, and handed a flask to Kanna. Kanna grabbed his wrist instead, and jerked him to the ground. Quick as a jackrabbit, Edmund leapt to his feet and sat on him. The guard growled and cursed and began to call for help. With a flick of his wrist, Kanna picked up a rock from the ground and struck him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

"Bravo, Kanna!" I whispered.

Kanna motioned downhill. "Run!"

We ran downhill aways, then hid in a bit of a ditch. Kanna made quick work of our bonds and soon, we were free.

"Now, again!" he cried, pointing. Below us, the valley was a tiny but pretty meadow. Along side of it continued the line of scrub trees, which we followed cautiously.

I was so excited I could hardly breath. We were getting closer and closer to the makeshift camp of Narnians, who looked excited and were staring up the hilltop, pointing and sharpening their blades.

"Almost there," whispered Edmund excitedly.

Suddenly, a shower of arrows fell upon us from above.

"Run!" I shouted.

Running zig zag and trying to shake off our pursuers, (another dwarf and hag or two) we dived right and left and made towards the camp.

So close! We're almost there!

An arrow whizzed over my head and embedded itself into Edmund's left arm. He shouted in surprise and fell to his knees, startled. Before I could catch up to him, he had already stood to his feet and ripped the arrow from his shirt. I put a hand on his shoulder and helped him run faster.

"Come on!" I shouted.

Suddenly, a group of armored Narnians galloped nearly into us—Oreius and a few followers. They swished right past us and neatly be ridded us of our enemies that had followed us.

"Come sire!" Oreius lifted me into his back, Edmund was hoisted onto another, and a kindly old gryphon swooped downward and daintily picked Kanna right off the ground.

And so we galloped back to the camp among our friends.

I could see Susan and Lucy running like mad to us, sobbing so loudly I could here them from where I was dismounting, their hair streaming in the wind and crying out our names.

"My precious girls!" I shouted.

"Susan, Lucy!" screamed Edmund.

"By the Lion!" said another voice.

I recognized Mr. Tumnus.

"Father?"

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Muahaha. Little teeny tiny cliffhanger.

love to all!

God Bless!

the pip


	42. To Arms!

**Yes, indeedy my reviewers, I found many a spelling error for you to find and stumble over. Muahaha, silly me. I try to take the time to correct things, but as I share my computer with other students, I have limited time to reread everything. Sometimes I just write as quickly as possible, post, and then laugh insanely because I managed to do it in only 40 minutes. Lol. I hope that excuses my little mishaps. I will do better in the future. **

**Finally, a confrontation! I hope you are all as excited as I am…

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**Chapter 42, To Arms!**

I paid no attention to anything else but my sisters. They leapt into our arms, Lucy hugged Edmund, and Susan hugged me. We all cried—(it's weird how easily I do that now…I felt like broken plumbing!)—and held each other.

Susan hissed in my ear, "That's the last—I say, LAST—time you are ever going off by yourself AGAIN!"

"Um…" I pulled her back and smiled at her. "We'll see. Trade me, Ed!" Susan ran over into Edmund's embrace and Lucy wrapped her tiny arms around my waist. I picked her up and she settled comfortably around my neck, crying like—well, like any other little girl.

"Sires," Oreius said gravely. "Please—step a bit back, we're not exactly out of the danger zone."

Edmund picked Susan up right off the ground as to not break the lovely moment. "ED!" she cried.

I followed them farther back into camp, grinning like an idiot.

"Ed, Ed!" squealed Susan, delighted and horrified all at once that her younger brother was carrying her in such a fashion. She smacked him playfully on the arm.

He gasped and covered his pain with a smile. "Very well, very well. You are a beast!"

Susan scampered back to me and took Lucy gently from my arms. "She hasn't slept a wink since you left. I made her promise that—when you came back—she'd take a nap."

"When? And not if?"

"I knew you'd be back," Susan said seriously, leading Lucy a few steps away.

"Come on, Ed," I took him towards a cute little She-beaver and knelt down. "Do you have something for some injured folks, deary?" (I was beginning to figure out how to speak "Beaver" too.

"Oh my gracious," she beamed at us. "Do I HAVE it? Well, 'course I have it, your Majesties! What's your ailment?"

Edmund winced and pulled back the neck of his shirt, revealing only a surface wound that bled nastily.

"Right then!" Beaver smiled sweetly and picked up a small bottle. "Put a little ointment on this, and it'll harden up nicely, then it'll fade. How's that?"

"What KIND of ointment is this?" Edmund asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"A nurse never reveals the ingredients!" the Beaver said indignantly.

"I think it's a magician never reveals its secrets," I whispered, making them both laugh. I forgot that Beavers had remarkable hearing.

"What's this?" Susan came up, worried looks on her face. "Ed, are you hurt?"

"Oh, hang it all, Susan," Edmund said, standing and holding out the bottle. "It's not bad. Watch!" he got a bit onto his hand and rubbed it in, then pulled up the shirt to cover it. "I'm fine."

"Well," Susan said slowly. "I think my day's of babying you are over. Can we go talk politics now?"

"Right away," I said, thanking the Beaver and leaving with my siblings.

Suddenly Edmund stopped short. "Where's Kanna?"

"Oh," Susan said nonchalantly, "I believe I saw him with Mr. Tumnus." She stopped and she remembered our suspicions. "Oh! Do you think they realize…?"

"Let's find out," Edmund said quickly, leading us near the interior of the camp. We saw such a warm sight, full of relief and an end to anguish.

"Father--" we heard Mr. Tumnus's voice say, happy—yet hesitant.

"I'm not your Father," said Kanna, as if the words were slowly killing him.

Susan made a motion with her hand. "We shouldn't see this."

"Do not deny it any more!" Tumnus exclaimed, hurt. "I know who you are. I'd recognize you anywhere—anywhere, I tell you!"

"That life is over," Kanna said, loud enough for us to hear.

"I'm still here," Tumnus said pleadingly. "I've missed you so."

"Dear Tumnus," Kanna pulled his son into an embrace. "I am sorry. Dreadfully sorry. It should never have happened like this." His swaying and nervousness seemed to have melted with the thought that he wasn't just appreciated, he was also loved.

"Come on," Susan led us back to a clump of logs, where we sat before a small campfire.

"So it's true then," Edmund said, picking at bits of grass like he so often did.

"I am glad!" exclaimed Susan, thumping the log beside her. "Tumnus has needed his father, and Kanna appeared to have always needed someone to take care of him."

"You right," I said. "Now, Su, we're both dying to hear what you did while we were away."

"No!" Susan cried, glaring at me. "That won't do, your story first. Where is that silly naiad that disappeared from our courts? Has she followed you?"

Sighing, I launched into a rapid explanation of our departure, Leyli's oddness, saving the creatures of Stone, the wolves, captivity, and the Hag.

"Leyli is not on our side, then?" Susan asked. "I'm really very confused about all this."

"So are we!" exclaimed Ed.

"Her heart is in the right place," I said, remembering Kanna's words. "But she is confused about how to win the trust of us."

"And you, Su?" Ed asked. "Hurry and tell us what you did!"

"Searched for you," Susan said, a smile spreading across her serious features. "It wasn't long when your horse returned, Peter. I've got your sword for you," she smiled and pulled it out from behind the log.

"Thank-you," I said, tying the sword around my waist where it belonged.

"Lucy and I decided to try and take you by force," Susan smiled plaintively. "We knew they'd never follow any agreement or bargain we came to. We both felt it was right."

"And good one, too," Ed said. "Now we can take care of them, and you've got us already. We outnumber them three to one at least."

"That is good news!" Susan folded her hand professionally. "I feared that the Witch's reserves, or at least what we think they are, would be much bigger."

"Sires!" Oreius galloped into view. "The Army has realized their missing prisoners. They are forming their lines. What are your orders?"

Susan looked at me, waiting for an answer. Why should I always get the fun part? Su did so much work, this is her job.

"What ARE your orders?" I asked her, winking.

"To arms," Susan said quickly. "Form the lines, Oreius!"

I paused. "We cannot let Lucy fight."

"No way," Edmund agreed quickly.

"Tumnus?" Susan said quickly. Tumnus hastened to her side, followed by a smiling Kanna. "Please see to it that Lucy stays in her tent. I must ask you to stay behind."

"Gladly," Tumnus said honestly. "It will be an honor."

Within the hour, a scene lay before us that looked very familiar. The meadow was much tinier this time, but it still lay between us and the enemy. This time, however, they were the minority. We felt much more confident.

I sat upon a horse, armored and ready, with Edmund on my left and Susan leading the archers (in the very back lines. I insisted.)

"Kill everyone and everything," I called to my army. "There will be a Naiad fighting. Take her prisoner and do not harm her."

"Yes, sire," said a murmur of voices.

The right flank blared their horns, the over the peak of the hill, the Hag led a clumsy looking band, nearly stumbling to form their final line.

My whole army burst into laughter.

"I could have slept in this morning!" cried a mischievous Talking Horse.

It made us laugh all the harder.

"For Narnia!" I cried, raising my sword. "And for Aslan!"

The cheer of the Narnians rang into the glorious sunlight.

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**I hope you all liked it! I decided to leave the confrontation beteen Tumnus and Kanna a little more private, but I won't hold back for the confronation of the armies, lol. **

**Leyli will return, I think, within the next chapter.**


	43. The Final Battle

**My poor Reviewers,**

**You are all going to hate me after this chapter. I know you will. I'm going to be very sad. :-( **

**Please no flames! (though I daresay all of you will be extremely tempted). **

**Fool of a Took!

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**Chapter 43, the Final Battle**

"Now!" I cried, holding my sword aloft and spurring my horse into action. With the thunder hooves, my army fanned out behind me and rocketed across the yellow grasses. A stiff wind began to blow at that moment, and the sun rolled behind a cloud. Summer was nearly over and a Narnian fall was truly beginning.

The Hag's band was dreadfully unorganized. With a shout, the left line began first, and the others scrambled along behind them. I counted only three mounted soldiers.

With a deafening crash, the two armies met at the base of the hill. With the same rush of adrenaline as I remembered from my first battle, my heart pounded and my stomach went to my throat. The blood and the screams turned the whole laughing affair into a wretched beginning for a serious battle. I'd almost looked forward to cleaning out the Witch's reserves—now I remembered how horrible the sounds were all around and the fear making my eyes water and my lungs go dry.

I used my sword carefully, grasping the hilt lightly so that my wrist wouldn't be broken if one were to push it backwards. I plunged it into a Cyclops, then beheaded a Minotaur. Black blood spurted and nearly blinded my poor horse, who leapt backwards and nearly crushed a few of my own men.

I flicked my sword to the left, driving the blade for the heart of a small creature that was heavily armored. At the last minute, I saw a pair of vivid green eyes glistening through the helm and I drew my sword back, shouting, "Leyli! Get to my camp! I will deal with you later!"

The armored creature staggered back and made its way out of the fray. With a glance around, I saw that the battle was nearly over. Edmund had just cut down the last group of dwarves and only a dozen or so Minotaur was lumbering towards us.

"Peter look out!" Edmund's voice screamed over the shouts and clangs of steel.

I turned just in time to see an axe blade raised over my head. The biggest Cyclops I had ever seen stood behind me, towering over my horse, and brought the axe down. His aim ran astray and knocked my shield from my hand. I stabbed towards him and missed by inches. He raised his axe far above his head again.

Suddenly, with the sound of flesh being pierced, the Cyclops paled and dropped his axe. Reaching behind him, he was unable to locate the source of pain, and toppled to the side. Kanna stood behind him, a glistening knife in his hand.

"Thank-you," I said quickly, turning again. A few satyrs had just cut down the last of the Minotaur.

Just then, the Cyclops heaved and threw a thick-bladed dagger.

"No!" I shouted, leaping from my horse.

Kanna fell to the ground with the steel in his chest.

I leapt forward and hacked away the Cyclops head, and then ran to Kanna and knelt beside him.

"Kanna," I whispered, unsure if he was still alive. "I…I thought you were going to stay behind."

Kanna shuddered wrapped his hands around the hilt of the dagger. "Where is my son?" he gasped. "Get my son!"

"Edmund!" I cried, standing. Edmund was galloping towards me at full speed.

"Edmund," I repeated. "Fetch Tumnus—and Lucy's cordial!" Edmund nodded quickly and thundered across the field to our camp.

"Your going to be fine," I said, jumping to my feet. "Just lay still." I unlatched my horses saddle and let it slide to the ground. I lifted the horse blanket and put it gently over Kanna. The horse neighed anxiously and trotted away. A Satyr saw my predicament and grasped his bridle for me so that he may not run from the stench of battle.

Kanna convulsed and shivered. "Where is Tumnus?"

"He's coming," I said, glancing across the field again. The sound of hooves were heard and Edmund's horse came into view. "He's on his way, Kanna, just wait for him."

Edmund's horse pulled up. Tumnus leapt to the ground and skittered over to me, and knelt slowly, his shoulders sagging with grief.

"Father," he said softly, "I told you not to go to battle!"

"I had…just one…last…mission," Kanna licked his lips and lifted his hand, touching Tumnus's cheek affectionately. "You understand, don't you?"

"Yes," Tumnus said, weeping in earnest. "Of course!"

Edmund was scrambling in his saddle bag. "I've got the cordial!"

"No," wheezed Kanna. "No, don't waste that stuff for me. It's time for me to go. I _want_ to go. I'm fulfilled now—I _want_ to go to Aslan's country!" with each breath his words grew shorter and quieter.

"I love you," whispered Tumnus.

Edmund opened the bottle and knelt next to Tumnus.

"And you, son," Kanna gasped and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

Peacefully and quietly, Kanna died.

"So it is over," whispered Tumnus, pulling the blanket over Kanna's peaceful face. He hid his face and wept.

Edmund's face twisted into one of those horrible shapes that they do when one is trying not to cry and is not succeeding.

"Come on," I said, my voice hoarse. "We have work to do."

It was one of those days that begin full of sunshine and anticipation, and end with the coming of darkness and depression.

The cleaning of the battles remains ensued. Some ladies from camp (Susan leading their sad precession) and brought us some lunch. After the battle, however, most of us lost our appetite.

Tumnus mourned his father, found and lost on the same day. He insisted on taking his lifeless form in a tiny pony-drawn wagon, and burying him near his cave-home alone. We consented, though we made it clear that he would have received the burial of an honored warrior.

The cleanup only took a matter of hours, but the burning of the corpses and burying of the ashes took much longer.

At about three, it was as dark as twilight, and a light rainstorm began, soaking us to the skin and making our work all the more grim.I wondered what I was going to do about Leyli. Life seemed to big now to worry about some troublesome girl.

Finally, our long day was over, and we went back to camp—feeling tired and serious about life ahead. It wasn't always fun and games, there was always work to do, and Kanna's death left a deep imprint on us all. We couldn't take Narnia's peace for granted. We had to work for it. And it didn't come without a hard cost.

When we returned to Cair Paravel the next day, (the rain fell harder than ever and the sun never rose), we came to a gray shoreline and heavy clouds. Cair Paravel was wet and dreary, but the welcoming light of fire and comfort shone from the windows—welcoming the weary soldiers back to its comforting arms.

I felt a tiny spark of light in the gray world, and finally felt as if I were truly home.

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**This is the end of a certain part, and the beginning of another. When we return to Narnia, a few years have gone by, and it will be documenting a bit more like a Narnian history book. Then, we'll leap into action again. Susan has fallen in love with a Calormene nobleman and Peter has to go fight the Giants in the North. You'll find out Leyli's fate as well. I hope you don't hate me now! I needed to end this chapter on a serious note, marking a point in history when Peter really matures, making the transition to the next few years a little easier (This will be during the "Horse and His Boy".) **

**Anyways, I want your input! Do you have any ideas for the opening chapter? What would _you like to see_ in the beginning of a new period of life for the Pevensies?**


	44. A Farewell and a Welcome

**I'm glad most of you weren't too mad—it was hard for me to want to kill off Kanna too! Anyways, here is a fresh beginning, like—a sequel basically, lol. Keep sending your ideas. **

**His Love to all,**

**The Pip!

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**Chapter 44, a Farewell and a Welcome**

The sunlight wafting through the curtains awakened me pleasantly. For early spring, we'd been punished through severe torrents of never-relenting rain. The glimmer of sunshine was the first we'd seen in a few months.

The smile brought to my face from the change of weather faded instantly when I remembered a nasty chore that had to be done today.

Leyli, a troubled naiad who betrayed her sovereigns and her country, was to receive her fate today.

For a long time now, she'd been working in the kitchen of Cair Paravel, put on paying staff and learning to earn her keep. An agreement we came to soon after Battle K, as it came to be known (in honor of Mr. Tumnus's beloved father), was this: Leyli would earn her money, and then use it to leave for Archenland. Banishment was something I had never thought of, and never would have proposed. Leyli was so wretched and sorry for what she had done; she offered to work for a little money to make her own way in this sorry world. I was going to refuse—though she literally begged me for this chance.

"I can make a living as a maid in Archenland," she said, "I don't deserve to be Narnian anymore."

After long debating between my siblings, we finally came to the conclusion that if she really wished for this change, then we could only grant it to her, and it would be a kind punishment.

That afternoon, we saw her off, giving her one of our older, gentler horses for her usage, and a saddlebag of food. With her final paycheck, she waved wearily to us and began to walk slowly for the gate. Lucy was in tears, Edmund and Susan felt sorry, and I hardly felt anything. It felt very right, but nonetheless sad, and I had a feeling Aslan was still going to do something for that girl.

Her story, and ours, would collide again someday.

That afternoon, we were surprised when the host of men of Calormene came for a visit. It was slightly unannounced, but we were brightened by the thought of a little visiting with a neighboring country and a little entertainment.

The Calormene's were a people of brown skin and black hair. Their beards were pointed; the royalties died theirs different shades. All the noblemen wore turbans with steel points; the servants wore dirty rags about their heads. They rode the finest horses and had the finest silk clothing. (They looked like Indians riding their fine Arab horses). They came from the desert, a palace of marble and stone called Tashbaan, with fine orange trees and green palms. Behind their walls in the cities and alleys, the filth and the homeless were a sorry sight. The Calormene were blind to their own people's problems—though they worked hard to become dear and trusted to Narnia and Archenland. Although, rumour had it from King Lune (our fine friend who sent us the treaty of alliance) that prospects between them had been a little tense lately.

Edmund and Lucy wiped their frowns from their faces, Susan looked flushed and a strange little smile spread across her face. We bowed for them, and they bowed for us.

"It blesses me to see the Sovereigns of Narnia upon their doorstep!" said the Leader, with a gracious, warm smile. "Allow me to plead with you to house us for a few hours while we rest? We are on our way to the harbor to do a little trading with the Lone Islands."

I remembered our newest installment to Narnia, the Lone Isles, a lush company of islands that boosted our economy with brilliancy.

"Enter, and welcome!" I said, gesturing them indoors. The servants sat in the gravel by the horses' hooves, while the Seven Noblemen dismounted.

"Please," said Edmund, a dark light in his eye. "I beg your leave to invite your servants in. They must hunger and thirst as well as you do."

Rabadash, the leader (whom I recognized from previous meetings) glanced at him with a curious, almost annoyed look, and nodded curtly with a smile that washed away all earlier misgivings. "Of course!" he cried, gallantly waving them over. "How foolish of me. I do not want to overwhelm you with our entire company!"

"They may come eat with me," Lucy said gaily. I shook my head at her. For a young teenager, she spoke with the deep voice of a woman, but continued a sparkling personality like a ten-year-old. She was growing so beautiful, I worried for her safety. She loved to ramp about in the woods and accompany strangers on expeditions, and would take in any sort of character from the streets.

Within the hour, we were seated in the Banquet Hall (the paint of white and yellow had dimmed from that first day we had eaten there after the Battle against the White Witch.) The kitchen staff had prepared a lovely meal for us and our guests. With a funny feeling in my stomach, I remembered the little cinnamon heart cookies that Leyli made for Lucy nearly every afternoon when she was put on our staff. There would be no more treats sent from her on special occasions.

"King Peter?"

"Oh!" I cried, nearly upsetting my wine goblet. "Let me apologize, my mind simply wandered off."

"Yes," Rabadash said understandably. "Narnia lets your greatest—dreams…and imaginations run wild. I find it holds uncontainable magic for me--" here he paused and shook himself. "I mean, for everyone. I feel my bones grow stronger here."

The table joined in with agreement and laughter.

"What kind of magic do you like most here?" Edmund asked sociably, poking a bit of roast with his fork.

Rabadash's eyes suddenly darted to Susan, who in turn, looked at him. "Ah," he said mysteriously. "The beauty of the country. The fine greenery and woodlands and abundant water. Calormene holds no earthly beauty…like here." His face became hidden by his glass.

My eyes widened and I felt my whole body tense with apprehension. It was clear to anyone even remotely stupid that he was thinking only of Susan when he gave his little pathetic monologue of earthly beauty. The whole thing made me want to vomit. I glanced at Susan, who was speaking with another calormen, a Flagbearer of the March. Though with every word he spoke, she only glanced at Rabadash, with a look of indescribable happiness.

I suddenly lost my appetite. Susan couldn't fall in love. Not here, not in Narnia. It would break the prophecy of the four thrones—it could mean heartbreak if we were to return to that…other world…I almost forgot what we used to call it.

And what of Rabadash? He'd never signed our peace treaty, only because he said he wanted Calormene to be so free with no ties to anyone, and we understood his reasons for freedom and only became friends. Could it be he wanted to marry my dear sister? And for what reasons could he have, if not wanting a tie to Narnia is some sort of way?

Lucy had had a few occasional crushes on a few cute mermen here and there, but nothing to worry over. Susan, since the time Edmund and I went to free the animals of stone, never confided in me in affairs of love or………….well………..anything else girls go through. She was just there for me, I for her, and we had a jolly good friendship.

With a resolve to protect her till the last, I knew we were going to have a little talk about this dark-faced lover of hers.

I didn't like it. Not one bit.

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I whisked Leyli away without so much as a goodbye for a reason. Don't be too mad about her. She'll either return or stay away forever—I'll leave that for a surprise. We'd introduced the relationship between Archenland and Narnia early in the story, and I thought it would be a good time to introduce the hot land of Calormene.**

**I hope you liked it!**

**the pip**


	45. Romance and Invasion

**Disclaimer: I like, never do any of these. Woopsie. **

**I DO NOT OWN THE NARNIA...NESS. lol. That about covers it.

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To my dear Reviewers:

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**Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I still can hardly believe I'm past two-hundred of them. **

**To Vanity's Closet, I think it was, about four years have gone by. Lucy is roughly 12 (if she was about 8 when the Wardrobe incident happened, two different sources have given me two different ages…. Don't trust MY timeline, I STINK at timelines and/or ages) **

**Edmund fifteen, Susan is eighteen, and Peter is twenty. (gasp! He's so old!)**

**I very much hope none of you lose interest too soon, with our teen characters suddenly growing up, but give me a few chapters of "The Horse and His Boy", we'll have another time warp, and then they'll all be back to England. **

**Forever His,**

**The Pippinator

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**Chapter 45, Romance and Invasion **

Our Calormene guests had left in the cold moonlight under a light shower of rain, after a stay of seven days. The weather did not permit them to leave, and I offered them lodging. The ambassadors, as I found the noblemen were, alluded to a marrage to unite the countries, but nothing serious was ever spoken of. This worried me—for Susan's sake.

The night after, I decided to speak with my sister about the situation. Cair Paravel, like a shield maiden against the cool of the season, was warm and quiet inside, as our kind subjects sleepily climbed to their quarters and drifted into slumber.

I carried a lit candle and made my way to Susan's door, and rapped my knuckles against it, whispering, "Su? Are you still awake?"

"Yes, in a moment, if you will," Susan said hurriedly. She scrambled about for a second, then opened her door warily. "Yes, brother?"

"May we speak together, for a bit?" I asked, hoping my candle wouldn't go out on us.

"Well," Susan seemed hesitant. "I'm ready for bed, but, if it's important…"

"I daresay it is," I said. My face must have looked odd, because she laughed outright and put my candle right out.

"Blast it all, Susan," I said, trying not to chuckle. "Do let me in, I really do need to speak with you."

Susan opened the door for me, and I set my smoking candle on the elegant desk next to the door.

"Come sit down," Susan said cordially.

I sat on the settee, folding my hands together casually, then changing my mind again and leaving them at my side. I opened my mouth to say something, and then forgot what I wanted to say. I sat like a dumb beast for moment collecting my thoughts.

"Well," Susan said after a silence, sitting across from me and looking at me expectantly. "Have you come to talk or stare at the floor?"

"I apologize," I rubbed my eyes. It seemed much harder than I expected. "I need to ask you," I harrumphed once, than twice. "Have you feelings for that Rabadash creature from Calormene?"

"He is not a _creature_," Susan said sternly, her eyes flashing.

"I suppose that means yes," I finished.

"Indeed," Susan nodded curtly.

"And…" I hoped it wouldn't be as awkward as this. All at once, I recalled every moment when I could have spoken to her more or encouraged her to confide in me. What a absent minded man I'd become. "What do you see in him?"

"Oh!" Susan laughed like someone had just opened a door to Aslan's country before her eyes. "He is so, so kind. He treats me like a Queen."

"You _are_ a Queen, my dear sister." What a silly logic, even for Susan, to have. Whatever happened to her practicality?

"But he treats me like I truly deserve the title," Susan sighed happily. "He pays compliments like, like a true gentleman with only true admiration."

"I do hope you will take a long, long time to think and pray over this new prospect in your life," I added hastily before that dreamish look across her features stole her away completely.

"New?" Susan looked upset.

Hang it all, I'd missed something else important in her life. "I mean, very first, true love…" I tried to correct myself. "Right?"

"This isn't the first time I'd had an eye for someone," Susan said slightly bitterly.

"Oreius does not count," I said, equally forceful. "He belongs to a different species. Even you can't deny that."

"I wasn't speaking of Oreius," Susan laughed. "Me? Fall in love with Oreius? You are daft!"

"I daresay I'm not," I retorted.

"What good is it to argue?" Susan sighed. "You've missed the last few. You've been busy. You're the High King, I'm a young Queen with naught to do but stitch cushions and coach the schools that come for their lessons. I'm lonely, Peter. I'm lonely."

Her voice slowed and she looked as if she were going to cry.

"Dear Susan," I reached over and took her hand. "My apologies are useless. I can say only this—tell me everything. I miss our talks."

"I too," Susan smiled. Her smile faded. "So you really do not approve of Rabadash?"

"I do not know him." I said simply. "We do not know his character. We ought to visit Calormene, I think, and know him better that way. He may not deserve you."

"Oh," Susan's face lit up. "I…I see what you mean, I think. About not knowing him, that is. I feel as if I've known him for ages upon ages!"

"That," I pointed at her. "That's—that's where you need to be careful. I must bid you to move slower…please? For my sake? I feel like I'm growing old and I can't be following behind, begging you to remember little us."

"What a terrible thing to say," Susan grinned. "And you're only twenty. Don't bring upon your own dotage. It's not healthy."

"Speaking of health," I retrieved a bit of flint from my pocket and lit my candle again, and went for the door. "You must have your beauty sleep, I suppose. I'm a bit tired myself."

"Goodnight, Peter, thank-you."

"Goodnight, Susan."

Honestly, I thought the whole thing went quite splendidly. After that, Susan actually showed me letters that Rabadash began to send. After a month or two, a long correspondence began, and I was sure that her puppy-love was blossoming into romance. The more it increased, the more I disliked it.

And finally, the letter came, requesting the pleasure of our company to stay in the finest palace of Rabadash's family for a bit—one of the first steps of involving the two separate monarchies in viewing the courtship.

Susan was as delighted as a Robin first to arrive on the dewy grass, and packed her finest things and fluttered to and fro like a butterfly. Lucy followed her example at ladylikeness, and failed miserably, and finally gave up and went outdoors to help Edmund arrange the guard and procession.

By the third night of all the hustle and bustle, we were informed the most disturbing news. Oreius came galloping to the courtyard while Susan loaded another parcel of gifts for the host, and shouted, "Your Majesties! I must speak with you!"

We gathered at the steps so that we may look at him eye to eye. Sweat ran down his shoulders and he was breathing hard.

"You know I was on leave visiting my family," he said, panting. "In the north. The Giants are invading, Your Majesties. They are coming from the Wild Lands. They've left Ettinsmoor well alone and come right for us. I ran the whole way." He leaned forward and breathed hard. "Forgive me. I'm a little short of breath."

"A little short of breath?" Susan laughed gaily. "And understatement, humble friend. Knightly? Fetch Oreius something to eat and drink, and be quick about it."

Knightly (a little brown faun) clicked her hooves and trotted quickly inside.

"Saddle the horses," I commanded Tumnus. "Prepare for battle. Ring the bell, Lucy, that's a dear. Ed, I guess we're going to miss a trip to Calormene."

"Sire," Oreius exclaimed. "Please, let me differ…"

"Tell me what's on your mind," I begged.

"Do not send our Queens alone," Oreius's eyes bore into mind, carrying more information than he wanted to speak aloud. "The Giants are large, but there aren't many, and they are stupid. Let Edmund accompany our Queens."

"Will you, Ed?" I turned and looked at him.

"Well," he shrugged. "I do not like the idea of you going off and fighting them alone."

"He'll be safe with me," Oreius said kindly. Knightly arrived with an oversized goblet, from which he drank from thankfully.

"I don't want to miss a fight," Edmund smiled. "But someone has to protect my most favourite girls in this world."

"That would be you," Oreius grinned behind his goblet. I liked his sarcasm.

"Very well." Edmund pointed an accusing finger at me. "But the moment you need help, you send a Raven or two, and I'll come riding to your rescue with a few hundred strong boars, bears, and eagles."

"Agreed," I nodded.

Susan came forward, a tiny smile on her face that masked some pain. "I'll miss you," she said. "In more ways than YOU know." The smile faded completely. "I really wanted you with me. I'm going to his blasted home to court the man, and you won't even be there!"

"And when you come back to your blasted home," I teased gently, pulling her into an embrace. "You do want one to come back to, don't you?"

"Of course," Susan stepped back. "Be safe. I'll see you in three weeks."

I hugged my little Lucy, and gave Ed a hearty hug and handshake.

It was truly depressing, departing separate ways.

My three dear, dear siblings were off to visit Rabadash, and Oreius and I were off to fight a war. A procession of gay colours and musicians headed for the harbour, where they would sail (by the river) to Tashbaan, and my army marched over the cold ground to the Northern borders.

I prayed to Aslan that they would be kept safe. Not that Tashbaan is particularly threatening, but I felt a keen desire to beg the Lion for wisdom and safety.

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Hey ya'll, hope you liked it. Sorry the timeline is so messed up, I'll try and sketch on out later to make it easier for you. Tell me what you think.**

**PS: Remember to pray for those in Fan Fiction! (pretty random, but it's a good thing, I think…)**


	46. Battle of the North

**Dear Reviewers:**

**Thanks for the reviews! Welcome back Capegio and Reepicheepet! I'm glad your computer is working. Happy Thanksgiving to you all too, even though it's a little early for me yet. ;-) (but I'm totally in the holiday mood. I'm craving a trip to the Christmas Tree farm!)**

**Acacia is totally right, I screwed up Lucy's placement in the story. I'll fix it, I promise! I'll find some excuse to send Lucy back to Cair Paravel…or Anvard, in Archenland, where I think she was staying when her siblings returned from Tashbaan. Something like that.**

**And no worries—there will never, ever, be any Su/Oreius. Oreius just is particularly good friends with her. I was actually poking fun at the whole silly Su/Or idea when their like, "He's a different species!" Forgive me if any of you have written any. I've read a few and liked them, still, I just won't write any myself. **

**God bless all of you!**

**the Pippinator

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**Chapter 46, Battle of the North**

"I am glad that Sallowpad and Tumnus accompanied my family," I spoke to Oreius one evening, after a long time of journeying the frozen terrain. Spring came late in the north, and the ground froze daily while the wind blew crisp and clean freshness over the sparse trees.

"I too," Oreius readjusted his helmet and fingered the hilt of his sword. "If anything were to happen to them, I'd…" he trailed off. "I love your sisters, especially," he opened up a bit farther than usual. "They bring such joy in Narnia. My wife," he paused. "Back home, she always asks me to tell her stories of the gay young women at Cair."

"You're married then?" I asked joyfully. "I thought something happened last summer."

"Indeed," Oreius smiled, a rare occasion, he was always so serious. "She's a lovely little filly. Palomino, she is, with golden hair that falls like sunshine."

"She sounds lovely," I agreed. "I'll see to it that we bring you back in one piece. After this, why don't you go on leave for a few days, and visit her?"

Normally, Oreius would have argued heart and soul and begged not to leave my side. Instead, his eyes twinkled. "I would appreciate that, Your Majesty," he had a thoughtful look on his face.

I guided my horse over a little fault in the ground and focused ahead. "We should have met them by now," I said, keeping an edge out of my voice. "They should be here." I held up a hand for silence. The company halted and fell silent.

Oreius leaned closer. "They are here."

"Can you see them?"

Oreius shrugged. He gestured to the mountainous piles of boulders nearly a mile or two ahead. Over small hills and flat, hard fields, it was easy to see ahead.

"Ah," I said, clicking to my horse, urging it forward again. "Their ammunition."

"They are probably behind it," agreed Oreius.

"Gryphon?" I turned. Positioned behind me were the griffins, led by Gryphon, though he was a bit older now, was valiant as ever.

"Yes, sire?"

"You've flown the north. Can we circle them, attack from behind, and have a place to fight to our advantage?"

Gryphon grinned wickedly. "I am happy you asked."

Nearly three hours later, we made our way through the mist—which had now thickened to an intense, pea-soup fog—and were positioned behind the enemy lines. Through the gray wall in front of us, we could hear the Giants blubbering about and chuckling like thunder. They were much bigger than Narnian giants, but on the whole, I'm glad we had a few. They sounded much bigger than I'm sure they were intended to be.

Thunderwest, Regalstump, Bouldercrush, and Brigacorn led the left flank, the heartiest and strongest giants in Narnia. Though giants are sometimes stupid, and not very good at following directions, I made sure to explain our strategy carefully.

Us smaller people, (humans, fauns, and satyrs), would lead the attack, giving them no more than the sting of bees with our pinprick of swords.

Annoyed, they would find it hard to rearrange themselves from their original starting point. Then the giants, centaurs, and bull-men would begin their attack, and the griffins should claw their head from above.

Lucky for us, in the terrible fog, it wasn't as hard to find the giants. We could see their feet and attack nicely. The Giants, however, couldn't see anything past their knees because of the mist swirling about their feet.

With a silent gesture with my hand, we galloped forward and began our surprise attack. We drew our swords and pricked the giants shins and boots. With howls, they began to stamp at random, trying to crush whatever bug may be annoying them. Just then, the Narnian giants burst forth, swinging their mighty clubs and knocking quite a few to the ground. Us little people scrambled to get out of the way of the falling giants. The griffins soared into the sky, circling over head, and clawed the faces of the ugly Giants, leaving cuts all over their faces, which they took care of with great pride.

Suddenly, Regalstump was down, howling in frustration at a black bruise that was forming over the side of his face. He leapt to his feet and countered his foe that swung a second club closer to the ground, catching my horse entirely on the side and crushing it to the ground. I was thrown from her and knocked into the heavy boot of another, and plummeted to the ground. I landed sideways on a small boulder and rolled off, nearly in the clutches of a Giant's hand, swooping down to catch me. I fell between his fingers. He lunged forward as I hit the ground hard. His heavy foot stomped readily and nearly crushed my left arm. Fortunately it grew numb with pain as the bone creaked and snapped. I cried out and jerked a dagger from my belt with my left arm, and plunged it into the leather boot. The giant hollered with the sting in his big toe and pulled back. Oreius appeared from behind and reared, bringing himself to a height where he stabbed the Giant through the back. The Giant fell forward dead, and Oreius scanned the rubble for me.

I staggered to my feet and held my left arm close to my chest, and retrieved the sword that had been knocked from my hand.

"Sire!" Oreius cried. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes," I stuttered, tripping over something.

"Victory is ours!" Oreius cried, holding his sword above his head. The army cheered and jeered at what was left of the giants.

"Casualties?" I asked, finding my poor horse, crushed and dead.

"Many horses," Oreius said sadly. "Gryphon is asking for you."

"No," I moaned, "Not Gryphon!"

"Over here, Sire," Ironfang the cheetah beckoned with a paw.

I went as quickly as I could and dropped to my knees. Gryphon was missing both wings—torn cruelly from his body by a Giant who had caught him in the sky. A wound gaped in his chest.

"Lucy's cordial?" I asked hoarsely, nausea twisting my stomach.

"That juice cannot make my wings grow again," moaned Gryphon. "Mend the heart wound, yes, but not my dear wings."

"Oreius?" I turned to him.

"Please don't," Gryphon pleaded. "Save it for someone younger. I cannot very well live with a good heart and no wings, really!"

"First Kanna," I said bitterly, remembering the battle against the hag long, long ago. "Then Willowmyth," I remembered the faithful dryad who's tree had been cut down by a ruthless black dwarf. "And now you. You've all refused the cordial. Why must you?"

"I don't know," Gryphon's eyes were dazed, he no longer knew me. "You, you—you have good time, now, numbers have won the battle." His brain must be rapidly rewinding back to my first battle…oh, how long ago it all was… "Aslan, grant me a new pair of wings! I'd like them white…" he faded away and took one last breath.

"No," I whispered, pushing the blood away from his mouth. I couldn't stop the tears and sniffed hastily. "Why do people have to die?" I whispered, not thinking any one had heard me.

"I think," Oreius knelt, horse fashion, and put a hand on my shoulder. "I think people die because, well, it has to happen. Some sooner, some later. But when it comes time, it's always the right time. Do you think Aslan would make a mistake in when to take them home?"

"No," I muttered, grasping my arm. The pain seeped in slowly and set my arm afire. "No, Aslan has taken the pain away much better than any old cordial, I suppose."

"He knows it was time for Gryphon to have a much better life," Oreius said, standing again and holding out his hand. "Come. It has taken nearly all of our two weeks to get her, and if we hurry, we can return in a week and meet your brother and sisters. Lucy will be awaiting us."

For a moment, I wondered if I was becoming delirious. "Lucy? Home?"

"Lucy stayed behind," Oreius said. "I received the message from a Raven only moments after you led the first attack."

"Why did she stay behind?" I scrambled up and woozily leaned against a boulder. "Is she alright?"

"Her exact word were this:" Oreius chuckled slightly. "She had no desire to go to Calormen. She'd much rather wait at home and keep it ready for our return."

"That girl," I forced a laugh. "She has no stomach for parties or courtship. She'd much rather welcome an army."

"Indeed," Oreius took a leather forearm guard and gently took my wrist, wrapping the bit of armor around my arm. "You're lucky you got out of that with only a broken arm."

"Ouch," I replied, giving him a half-grin. "You're better at this than Edmund."

"We shall see," Oreius took the belt part and jerked it tight. I gasped and clenched my fist.

"Forget it," I corrected, flexing my fingers and moving my arm up and down. "I spoke too soon."

"Your welcome," Oreius laughed heartily. "Shall I signal?"

"Absolutely," I found my helmet, with a dent in one side, and brushed it off. "Let's not keep dear Lucy waiting for us. She must have been so bored, away from all the invading and battle!"

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Hehe, Peter is in for a surprise when he gets home! I don't think Lucy was so bored after all………**

**Review please!**


	47. Peculiar Homecoming

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Chapter 47, Peculiar Homecoming**

It was about four o'clock in the morning when the turrets of Cair Paravel peeked through the mists, warm and hazy in the spring morning.

Weary and footsore, I gave one last farewell to my men. And as was the custom in Narnia, gave the list of casualties to a servant, to be nailed upon the town square wall in a nearby village, where peoples of Narnia would gather in the morn to read the list. I prayed Aslan would give friends and family of Gryphon strength during this sad time.

"Lucy?" I shouted, opening the heavy door. My boots made the only noise down the dim hallway. I finally reached her room and went inside when she did not answer my knocking.

"Lu?" I called softly. "I know it is a bit early I just wanted to see you. Wake up, you silly owl!" I pulled back the crumpled covers.

The bed was empty. I felt the heather mattress. It was cold.

"Lucy!" I called, marching back into the hall. Where could she be?

"Knightly!" I shouted, calling our most recent maid servant, who made it her business to nosy into everything. She ought to know.

Knightly stumbled up the tiny flight of steps, tugging a robe about her. "King Peter," she muttered sleepily, pushing back her frizzy, curly hair. "You're back! Good morning."

"Where is Lucy?"

"Oh, so you know she decided against going to Calormene?"

"Yes, I did," I said impatiently. "But where might she be now?"

"Well," Knightly adjusted her robe and blinked sleepily. "I don't rightly know. She was going to Anvard, I think it was. You know the reserves you left stationed her in case the Northern Campaign went awry? She took them with her."

"She took…an army?" I exclaimed in shock. "To Anvard?"

"I wondered about that too," Knightly said excitedly. "But she hardly said a word to me. I assume from my own observations that it was because the Calormene's are attacking Archenland."

"But Su and Ed should be with Rabadash, in Calormen," I protested.

"Rabadash is the one leading the army," offered Knightly.

"And Lucy rushed off to defend it!" I added. This could not be happening, not my baby sister….

I was ready to curse, order a fresh horse, and be off into the woods, galloping like mad by myself to the scene of whatever was happening. Before I did anything too rash, the chime rung overhead. Rather than jumping like I used to, I rushed to the door, used the sound of the over-grown doorbell.

I threw open the wood door just as the sun peeked over the edge of the trees. The sun blinded me momentarily before I saw a familiar face—Sallowpad!

"Your Majesty," he was bowing before me.

"Great Scott!" I exclaimed. "It IS good to see a familiar face!"

"It is good to see you in such fine health," replied the Raven. He peered at my badly wrapped arm. "Or—almost—good health."

"Alas, I've come back to terribly strange news!" when I was in front of my subjects, I tended to lapse into "proper" Narnian grammar for royalty. "Please tell me of the events in our Sister Country Archenland? And where has Lucy gone?"

"I'll preface it with this," began Sallowpad. "Your family is perfectly safe."

"Thank the Lion," I muttered.

"Lucy, indeed, stayed behind." Sallowpad continued. "She found a trip to Calormen with parties and dances held no excitement for her. She did not stay for long, however."

"What made her change her mind?"

"I'm getting to that," Sallowpad sobered. "You needed to know this first."

I shut my mouth so that he could continue.

"Queen Susan found," Sallowpad explained, "That Rabadash was planning to hold her captive in Tashbaan until she agreed to be his bride. He made many a sly comment to her courtiers, that they may have a pleasant stay, provided that they left their Queen behind."

I couldn't help myself—my eyes filled with tears. "My poor Susan," I whispered in shock. "He'd DARE defile a Queen of Narnia?"

"Dared? Almost _did_," agreed Sallowpad. "If it had not been for Tumnus's carefully planning, we'd still be in Tashbaan now. He had the clever idea of hosting a splendid party on our ship, the _Splendor Hyaline, _and while everyone suspecting we were preparing the ship with musicians and food, we slipped away in the night."

"Well done, Tumnus," I croaked, wiping my face. If anyone had married Su against her wishes…what a horrid, horrid thing to take away—Su always dreamed of a fine marriage to the perfect one for her. If she had had that taken away…

"Rabadash does not truly love her," Sallowpad said kindly.

"That is for sure," I agreed.

"He hoped to make an example of Archenland, and have Susan say 'yes' and then he should spare Narnia. Then, we should be forced to sign a treaty of peace—for our own flesh and blood, Queen Susan, would have her life at stake. And then we would surrender nicely."

"If I ever get my hands on that bloody horrid, two-faced donkey--" the sadness was replaced with a dastardly temper.

"Slow to anger, your Highness," Sallowpad chuckled. "Let me finish. When us Narnians flew the coop, Rabadash set for Anvard straight away. Fortunately, King Lune's other son, the one given up for dead many, many years ago, appeared from the desert like a ghost and warned the King himself, and prepared them for battle."

"Amazing!" I murmured. So the prophecy I had heard was true…his son would return and save the country.

"Lucy came along with a band of Narnians," Sallowpad clapped his wings gleefully. "And the Calormene's were utterly defeated!"

"Bravo, Lucy," I cried.

"And what's more," the Raven leaned forward, his eyes alight. "During the victory feast, upon last night, we were visited by Aslan himself!"

"Oh," my face fell. I have longed to see him again. If only I had been there.

"And what's EVEN more," cried the Raven. "He turned Rabadash into a donkey, my lord, a fat little donkey!"

I laughed outright. So I shouldn't have to return to Calormene and take his life for revenge. What a relief.

"Rabadash was returned to Calormene," laughed Sallowpad, "In all his—ahem—glory, and restored to Human Form before his own audience."

"Fascinating," I cried.

"He cannot venture ten miles from his home and not return to being a donkey."

"Good news!" I said happily. "I do wish I could have seen Aslan. And tell me, of Lucy, did she really fight in battle? She is much too young!"

"Might I add Edmund was younger than her when he fought the First Battle reclaiming Narnia from Snow?" Sallowpad ventured laughingly.

"You're right," I admitted. "But…how did she do?"

"Like she was doing it her whole life," laughed my loyal Raven. "And I come before the party from Archenland. Your siblings return in fine health—Edmund received a bit of a blow to the head, but he is fine. They'll will be here in a matter of minutes."

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**Read and Review, my reviewers, or I shall…….make you eat boiled potatoes!**

**(eeew)**


	48. Reflections

**Dear Reviewers,**

**Wow, I loved the feedback! We passed three-hundred! WOOHOO! **

**I was surprised at how many of you liked boiled potatoes. I said "eew" earlier, but now I'm beginning to think that I may like them too. I'll have to threaten you with something a little less tasty. Like broccoli soup. Or…sushi. Mmmm. **

**Yes, I decided to marry off our favorite Centaur (his fighting with the swords and that whole deal…that's SO COOL! One of my brother's favorite characters) I thought that would clear up any worries about Su/Oreius. Plus he always seemed like a family guy. And I'm sorry I killed the Gryphon—and I'm sorry I made some of you cry. Not looking at anyone in particular. Hehe.**

**Rumblebuffin, I think, went to Anvard for the battle. HHB states that there "were a few Narnian giants there." Plus, Lucy and Rumblebuffin always got along splendidly ("I thought you was the hankerchee!") and so I thought it would make sense if he went with her. **

**Thanks to Vanity's Closet, I've got a splendid timeline for this whole deal…and I have found that they _only have one more year left in Narnia. _That's means at least one more adventure, a little sibling fluff, and then back to London! (I've got some great ideas for this, with plenty of plot twists—it totally beats that Kanna deal--) and I'm really looking forward to a new…thing…for this story. I promise, you'll love it. Just continue to read and review and I'll remain faithfully yours,**

**Pip**

**God bless you all. **

**(I'm almost to 50 chapters, I'm almost to 50 chapters, I'm almost to 50 chapters…)

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**Chapter 48, Reflections**

I sat on the steps until the sun was signaling breakfast hour, but I was not hungry. Knightly brought me a cup of tea and that sufficed. I was eagerly awaiting my siblings and could think of nothing else! Susan had had a time of it, and would be emotional, I rightly guessed. Lucy had fought her first battle, which I hated myself for missing, and would be ecstatic. Edmund had a blow to the head, would have a headache, but he'd calmly describe events to me in his quiet, wise manner. How I missed them. Three weeks, or so, were too long a time. I felt like I was missing my other half.

The trumpets blared, flags appeared over the hillside, and a long procession of gay colours and fine war horses appeared. Edmund led them up, a bashful grin appearing over his face when we caught eyes. Susan looked exhausted, but her eyes sparkled as she looked to home. Lucy was so exuberant she left the parade, galloped up the drive and leapt off the horse.

"Peter, Peter!" she shouted. "I've led the battle! I did it!"

I ran down the steps to meet her and caught her in an embrace. We lost our balance and fell back onto the steps, laughing like maniacs.

"It was terrible!" she laughed, "But I did it, and I did it myself!"

"Bravo Lucy," I said, kissing her cheek and helping her up. "It was improper, unwise, and a rash thing to do, but I've never been more proud of you."

Lucy curtsied.

Susan leapt like a bird up the steps, her gown flowing behind her like feathers and gave me a warm embrace. "Oh Peter!" she cried, resting her head on my shoulder. "How I wish, wish, you had been there. The Giants?"

"All taken care of," I had nearly forgotten what I had been about. "We've lost Gryphon, though. He died nobly."

"Dear Gryphon," murmured Susan, standing aside for Edmund.

"You did great, Ed!" I said, clapping him on the shoulder. We shook hands. "You all did so well, I am so proud of you."

"Well, thank-you, sir," laughed Edmund. He adjusted a bit of wrapping around his head. "Let us go inside! We've much to talk about!"

I insisted they tell me their story first, and as we sat in the banquet hall with the hungry army, a great breakfast was served. They related much of what the Raven told, but with a little more detail. Lucy, in particular, wanted to describe "Foolish Rabadash," and how she finally figured out how to dance like a faun with Mr. Tumnus. "And it wasn't with his teaching, either," she said. "When he came up with the plan for escape I went right over and danced with him like a real faun!"

Edmund gravely recounted the battle, the told of King Lune's mysterious son. "Raised by a fisherman, he was," he explained. "And guided by Aslan and a Talking Horse from Narnia throughout his whole journey. Twas the most inspiring story I've heard since, well, last night when Lucy recounted our journey from the Wardrobe."

"War Drobe?" I joked. "What might that be?"

"The truth is," Lucy murmured, "I did not remember either. Someone did ask me how I came to be from a Wardrobe, and I couldn't rightly say. I explained it was a portal, from one world to another."

"And what world did we come from, I wonder," Susan muttered. "That life has deteriorated in my memory like an old dress."

"The only thing I remember is that we had war there, too," Edmund added. "But that wars here—wars here, compared to there, are almost happy."

"I don't remember even that," I offered. "I remember automobiles. But how loud and horrid they were! No life in them, no living, breathing animal beneath you, galloping over the horizon."

"I admit," Susan leaned back. "Life here is more than it could ever be, back There. How good it was of Aslan to pull us away."

"We probably would have died young and never be remembered," Lucy said quietly. "I remember the smells and the noise of a gray city. Here, it is always beautiful and we'll be remembered forever."

"To that I concur," Edmund agreed. "Had we stayed there, it would have meant only pain and suffering. It makes you wonder if Aslan had rescued us from Hell, or something very much like it."

"There were no trees and grass," sighed Lucy. "But brick and stone. How terrible we must have lived. I'm glad I've forgotten it!"

"I remember trees," I exclaimed. "Yes, there were trees. Outside a window. I remember the leaves turning in the rain."

"You're only thinking of the tree outside your window," Edmund scoffed. "There weren't any trees."

"Perhaps," I said slowly. Maybe he was right. Everything was so hazy, anyhow.

"I don't remember any trees either," Susan concluded. "Even if their were, it wouldn't be as splendid as here, nothing could ever be."

"Your right, of course," Lucy added. "Nothing is as pleasant as here."

We laughed off the foggy memories, and pushed our minds further so that we may forget them altogether. We parted happily, Susan went to rest, Lucy went to practice her archery skills with renewed vigor, and Edmund decided to go out for a walk on the beach. I decided to go for my room and do a bit of writing.

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Read and REview! Or I'll make u eat sushi!


	49. Visits

**Aw, you all reviewed so nicely, I won't make any of you eat sushi. Not that I could force feed you through a computer screen, anyhow, but my point was made…lol…**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! God bless!**

**the one and only Pippin Baggins

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**Chapter 49, Visits**

I settled comfortably in my chair and wrote in my nearly full journal, detailing the latest news of my life, and recounting what my younger siblings related to me. Over an hour or so of writing, I felt a deep remorse for not seeing Aslan.

_I admit, I felt a shimmering moment of happiness when Sallowpad told me they had been visited by Aslan. It soon faded however, with the remembrance that he was not with them, nor on his way up the hill to Cair Paravel to see me. I longed, how I longed, for years and years to see him face to face and to hear him say "Well done, Son of Adam." It is not to be so. He is gone, back to the Eastern Land of the Emperor, and he probably will not visit any time soon having done his duty by reducing Rabadash to a figure of laughter and mockery. How is it that Rabadash had the luck to see the Great Lion, while I had none—fighting in the fog against a foe thrice my size? Sometimes it does not seem fair—life is not fair, of course, but I try to hide how much I miss Aslan. Now, I am feeling like my reign is drawing to a close, in a strange way—like something big is coming, something bigger than a battle, something larger than life—right out of the world. Silly premonitions, there's nothing like them. One can get so worried and obsessed. Rather, I try to squelch the feeling, only for it to be replaced by the hunger to see the King. _

"Well, you've called, Son of Adam, and I've come."

The voice that was so familiar, so rich and deep that rumbled from the earth and spread over the heavens like stars, was penetrating the soft curtains from the balcony. The breeze blew them aside and unveiled the Great Lion.

I was in such a shock, I leapt to my feet and stared open mouthed, like the clumsy human I was.

"Oh, Aslan," I said softly. "I've missed you!"

"I've always been here, you know," he reprimanded gently.

"Yes," I said slowly. "Yes, I know that now." The atmosphere had never changed. His invisible presence had only turned visible for a moment.

"Son of Adam," Aslan said in the deepest, grandest tone, "Well done."

I dropped to my knees and felt so humble. He personally showed himself to me, only to grant me a selfish desire to hear myself praised.

"Peter, Peter," Aslan chuckled. "Come walk with me a bit."

I staggered to my feet and followed him onto the balcony. His great, velveted paws made no noise down the marble steps to the garden, where the early afternoon sun had softened and white wisps of clouds took away the blindness. A breeze blew the palms and oaks. We passed under the hedge wordlessly. It wasn't until our feet touched the grains of sand that he smiled at me.

"You know of what is to come, don't you, Peter?"

"No, sir, I confess I know nothing."

"But you've an idea of the changes I am going to bring?"

"Something bigger than a battle."

"Yes, yes, much bigger." Aslan looked thoughtful. "It will turn your life upside down and backwards."

"Oh dear," I muttered. "No one is to be…hurt, will they?"

"No," Aslan said firmly. "It will all be well."

"Relieving news," I said gratefully.

All was silent for a moment, save the gentle sound of the sand pushing under the footfalls and the lapping of the waves.

"Aslan?" I had not thought of Her in years. But there was no harm in trying to check up on our former courtier. "What has become of the Naiad woman that we sent to Archenland?"

Aslan looked at me, considering the question carefully. "She is happier than you could ever imagine."

"She is not dead, is she?"

"No. Her life has only gotten better since you sent her away. You felt terrible, but you did the right thing."

"Thank-you," I said sincerely. My heart could rest now that I knew I had done what was right by Aslan.

"I know I did the right thing," I decided to risk adding. "But what about her? What does she think?"

"I am telling you your story, not hers," Aslan corrected simply. "Your actions brought her happiness. That is enough information. Your journey is not over."

I was curious at what he meant, but said no more.

"Peter," Aslan said, turning to me, his golden mane catching bits of sunlight. "I am disappearing again, but do not forget I am always with you."

"I won't," I cried resolutely. "Ever, ever again."

"Good-bye, Son of Adam. I love you very much, my dear child."

I knelt in the sand before him and bent my head, whispering, "I love you too, Aslan." I looked up for one more look at his splendour.

And he was gone, with naught left but the great paw prints in the sand.

It wasn't until the next day I found the right words to tell my siblings about the special visit I had received yesterday. They were clearly happy for me, and like myself, were wordless but had their own joyous thoughts of him running through their heads.

We decided to go on a little trip, not long after that, and visit our old friends. We passed by the Beaversdam, and paid respects to Mr. and Mrs. Beaver (who had three little ones that begged us to stay for tea). We passed by the Burly Bears, and they offered us a gift of honey. We went and saw good Giant Rumblebuffin, who lumbered out of his cave in his old age, and bid Lucy a good morning to "Little Miss Hankerchee" which was his fond nickname for his favorite queen. We saw Oreius and his wife, and Susan and he got into an old-fashioned (though good natured) argument over likes and dislikes of archery types. We saw the Fox, the Badger, and a few others, all delighted and as kind as we remembered them. We paid respects to Battle Crest, and laid flowers on the Honors Graves.

For some strange, odd reason, I almost felt like I was saying goodbye to everything—and everyone…

…and to Narnia itself.

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Sorry this one was a little shorter. I have homework to do. **

I hope you all liked this chapter! I'm building up a little slower than normal to make the transition from Narnia to Earth a little more exciting. Be patient, its getting better….

**You're going to LOVE the next plot twist I have for YOU! (its still in the making though, maybe not for another four chapters or so… but still, its pretty much amazing. When I thought it up in my head, I almost screamed with excitement at the thought of getting to write it! and beleive me, I've been waiting to write this one up since chapter 31, when they discovered Kanna's secret)!**

**PLEASE Read and Review! No threats this time, I'll just ask nicely.**


	50. Tournament of the Lone Islands

**Dear Reviewers:**

**Wow, I'm actually at…..CHAPTER 50!!!! This has been an amazing journey…seriously. I started with only three reviewers, Capegio, elektrum, and Reepicheepet, and now it has increased so much I can't personally reply anymore! Its crazy! This has been so much fun, and I hope all of you continue to read and review and enjoy my story. There's so much more I want to tell. **

**I think a few of you were hinting you wanted another adventure before they return to England. Well, I can't exactly think of any more "adventures" while I have that SPECIAL ONE brewing, so I'll put in a little excitement instead. I researched in Prince Caspian for a little background, and they mentioned a Tournament in the Lone Islands. What's this? A TOURNAMENT? Well, as long as it has swords, emotion, a little battle…I can write it! So here it is! Please enjoy! (also, in the scene in the movie "the Hunt for the White Stag" it looked all orangy in the forest and stuff, so I'm moving on a few months from winter/spring to autumn. Just a few months later).**

**Always His, (um, as in Jesus if that sounds weird to some of you)**

**The PIP!

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**Chapter 50, Tournament of the Lone Islands**

The morning dawned clear and fresh, one of those perfect September mornings. The sky was blue with not a cloud in the sky, and every tree was orange and red. The green grass glistened with dew, and the chilled wind blew over the rich earth. It felt good to be living.

I felt adrenaline pumping through me for the Tournament I was going to be participating in today. The Lone Islands, a few days journey from the Narnian port (by sea), was hosting a Grand Tournament and invited all to participate; Viziers from Calormene (though I wondered if any were going to have the courage to participate from last springs defeat), Knights from Archenland, Ambassadors from other isles, and most specifically—Edmund and I of Narnia.

I dressed and went outdoors, stretching in the beautiful sun and feeling the wind whip my hair backwards when I nearly tripped over a mole.

"Sir," I said, "I am terribly sorry."

"No worrehs', y'Majesty," he said, beaming. "Jest don't squish meh apples. I plantin' em for you."

"Weren't these planted the day the Ambassadors came from Calormene?"

"Yes'm, I've been tending to them tenderly like they were meh own molings," Mr. Mole said happily. "Best kinda apples around."

I surveyed the tiny garden, planted right against the gravel road. "I do hope they aren't trampled," I admitted. "They're a little close to the road."

"One day, y'Majesty, you'll be glad of them apples!" laughed the Mole, leaning on his little spade and squinting up at me. "Very glad, indeed! You'll be riding by t'fetch sumthin', and not 'ave any time to grab a morsel, and lo and behold! An apple an arms length from yer horse!"

"You are absolutely right, sir," I agreed, reaching down and removing a stone from a painful death from his spade. "Well done." I turned and found Susan watching me, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm on my way, Madam," I said quickly.

"You are daft," joked Susan. "You would lounge about this court all day if ye had a mind, now let us go now! We don't want to be late!"

I shall skip the narrative of the ocean voyage, it was hot, and dry, with a crisp wind, and we arrived in the Lone Islands port hours early.

We went and left our luggage and courtiers at the Oceana Inn, and went to the Tournament grounds where we could view the splendour. Susan and Lucy were escorted by Tumnus to go view things that…well, Lady's like to look at, like ribbons and fashions and such. Edmund and I went to go meet our future opponents.

We met many a lad from Archenland, eager to try knightly skills or admire the participants. We were a bit surprised to see a few men of Calormene, but they were quiet and kind, and probably only the age of seventeen, for the most. We shook hands and shared a drink all around, and generally made a few friends to cheer each other on for the games tomorrow.

The next day dawned after a light shower, a low overhang of gray clouds. We were thankful for the lack of rain in the afternoon, and we were glad of the shelter from the sun—it is a disadvantage to gallop towards one opponent while being blinded by a sunray.

The first round was to be played by Edmund, against a delightful Archenlander named Zorrado, (whose faithful servant was none other than Capegio, the messenger who befriended us in the very beginning of our reign).

We lined the sides and cheered as Ed positioned Philip, his horse, on one end of the green strip of grass. Zorrado was at the other. At the drop of the flag, they galloped madly to each other. With shouts, everyone began to cheer for their favorite. Edmund was a hero with his blunt lance and knocked Zorrado from his mount. Edmund dismounted, helped him up, and they shook hands. Narnia received a copper coin (by way of keep score).

I was next against Calormene. I mounted my horse, a feisty black mare named Berry, and readied my lance.

At the drop of the flag, the crowd erupted and I spurred Berry into action, thundering across the turf towards the Calormen boy.

As soon as he began to gallop, I noticed something a bit strange. He couldn't seem to get his lance in the right position. He pulled it in, brought it close, and did something to its tip.

We were almost to the center point when I realized, horrified, that he had taken the soft cover from the sharp tip of the lance. He didn't plan to knock me from my mount—he planned to hurt me.

We clashed. I tried to wheel from the point and lurched sharply to the left, knocking him almost half-off his horse. He shoved his lance forward and thankfully broke its tip against my breastplate. I fell from Berry and braced myself from the fall. I crashed to the ground, and the crowd erupted into a few cheers and scattered sounds of disappointed. A few called for a retry, some said the Calormene cheated, others insisted it was a mistake. No one could really decide.

Calormen received a copper coin.

"It's alright, Ed," I said as I brushed myself off. "We'll keep an eye on them, though, won't we?"

Ed didn't say much, but his sharp looks towards the Southern opponents were enough to melt ice.

Calormene and Archenland went against each other next, Archenland won brilliantly. It was Ed's turn to go with Calormen.

"Go on, Ed!" I cheered. Everyone yelled for theirs and Ed spurred his mount down the runway. Lucy and Susan waved their handkerchiefs politely from the stands—rather than screaming like a few frivolous girls.

I concentrated on the Calormene. His lance seemed in proper order—the protective tip covered the sharp end.

The two riders clashed. Edmund used his lance and almost shoved the Calormene from his mount, but he still clung on. The Calormene glared and shouted something, then hit Edmund's horse in the knees with the blunt handle. Philip made a terrible noise, stumbled, and began limping.

Whistles began blowing, the Calormene was announced disqualified for _Mild Violence to Opponents Mount. _Ed dismounted, curled his fists once, or twice, then let it go. Sadly, he led poor Philip to the sidelines where I met him.

"You alright, Philip?" I called, leaning down and inspecting the damage.

"I was planning on using these for a hard gallop at home," Philip mourned, pinning his ears back when the Calormene men walked by, shouldering their bags and heading for the harbor.

"What think you, Edmund?" I asked. "After the war they came to exercise the sin of sabotage?"

"I agree," Edmund nodded, wrapping rags around Philips injuries. "A lance is meant to knock a rider down, not injure the horse."

"I know this better than anyone," Philip cried disdainfully.

Susan and Lucy came trotting through the mud, their faces anxious. "I am glad they are disqualified," Susan said sympathetically. "Everyone well?"

"As well as can be expected," moped Philip.

For the next two days, Philip recovered, and Ed and I shared Berry and participated in a few more sports that required only one of us. However, those were few. With the Calormene's gone, who are excellent horsemen, the main challenge was removed from the competition. However, a few ambassadors from the Lone Islands agreed to participate (under the name of the Lone Islands, though they are a province of Narnia). We had a few fencing rounds as well, one that did not require a horse but slightly more dangerous—if one couldn't handle the sword well, you could lose a finger, an eye, or worse. Edmund won second place, Archenland first.

For the main part of the tournament, the Championship, the copper coins collected through the three days were totaled, and Narnia won by a mile.

The voyage home was happy, with starlit nights and dancing on the deck, and proud Berry and dismal Philip, in the stables below, while Philip muttered, "I know you can't talk to me, Berry, but how I wish you'd say how sorry you feel for me." (Horses ARE known for a bit of vanity and over-concern.) Berry nickered in a lovable sort of way, but only thought Philip was agreeing that the oats were indeed lovely--and how nice it was returning to their favorite pasture.

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**Here is goes, everyone! The beginning of the end! WHOOPPEEE!!!!! **

**Read and REview!**

**Fasten your seatbelts!**


	51. The Hunt of the White Stag

**To violingal: The Gap? Hmm…I do not work at the Gap, nor do I shop there. I have a friend that cannot find jeans her LONG length w/ a small enough waist unless it be at Gap—however, she does not play the violin. We may know each other, who knows. Stranger things have happened.

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**To all my dear Reviwers:**

**Finally, the moment we've all been waiting for. Including me, lol. 'Nuff said.**

**Read and Review! **

**God bless you and keep you!

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**Chapter 51, the Hunt for the White Stag**

It was one of those beautiful October days, when the weather was most haunting and days most splendid. It was when the days were golden with sunlight, splaying on the orange and red trees, with crisp winds and skies blue. At night, mist rode along the ground, and a yellow moon rose in a purple night sky.

It was one of those afternoons, lazy and subdued, when Tumnus the Faun came to us in our hall, bowing, and saying eagerly, "Your Majesty, the White Stag has been seen in the Shuddering Woods!"

We leapt to our feet, and moving like in a dream, ordered our steeds to be saddled, and with our courtiers, mounted and galloped for the Shuddering Woods. Susan and Lucy took more than a moment to pick out their proper hunting garb, for which Edmund was extremely impatient to get started and teased dreadfully.

For we knew that the Stag was a long sought creature for any existing being. The stag, pure white in colour, would grant thee any wish your heart desired, if you only caught it in its flight, and asked.

We galloped without rest, pursuing the noble creature, feeling the warmth of the sun in our bones and the carefree freedom of Narnia's comfort.

Actually upon entering the Shuddering Woods, it was Edmund who spotted the White Stage, blowing the horn fiercely, and we partook of a fantastic chase as never seen before in Narnia. The wind rushed and pulsed adrenaline of the fun through our bodies. Long before we were in sight of the creature, our party of courtiers and guards, had been left behind, their older horses puffing a bit and admitting to have given up. However, me and my royal siblings went on, shouting with enjoyment and galloping over log and turf, rounding the trees and catching glimpses of the white hooves just ahead.

It was in a moment when I turned, and saw Susan had fallen back. Then Lucy. Edmund was nowhere to be seen.

"What's troubles you now, Madams?" I called.

"We've lost the brother," Susan said shortly.

I galloped back around the bend, and Edmund bent over Philip, patting his neck affectionately.

"Come on, Ed," cried Susan.

"Just catching my breath," Edmund offered, saving Philip's embarrassment over very sore knees. (He insisted on coming despite his injury).

"That's all that we shall catch at this rate," Susan said breathlessly.

"What was it he said to us before, Susan?" Lucy said slyly.

"You girls wait at the castle," Susan mimicked Edmund's voice. "I'll catch the Stag myself."

"Well, come!" I cried. "Never have we hunted a nobler quarry such as this! Let us go forward!"

"Wait," Lucy said in a strange voice, one childlike and curious.

"What's this?" I asked, following her gaze.

Before us was something—a very strange something—that reminded me of a dream, long, long ago. It was the kind that you swore to yourself that you would remember, and upon the morn, awoke and found you remembered nothing of it. Then you spend the rest of your life, wishing you could dream it again, and never doing it.

"It's as if from a dream, or a dream of a dream," Edmund whispered, dismounting.

"What is it?" asked Susan.

"Madam," I explained, "It seems to me it is a pillar of iron…"

"With a lantern set on top thereof," added Edmund.

"Let's go back," Susan said, in another strange voice, that sounded younger and frightened—another thing of the past.

"No," I argued. "Never as Kings or Queens of Narnia have we turned back from nothing we know nothing of. Let's continue."

We went to the pillar, and it was no shade nor specter, but a lamppost, with an eternal candle inside.

"Spare Oom!" cried Lucy suddenly, with a gleam in her eyes. She suddenly ran forward into the thicket, where the Lamppost seemed to stand guard before it.

"Lucy!" I cried.

"Not again," muttered Susan.

"Luuuucy," tried Edmund.

We stumbled into the thicket, tripping over pines and oaks and shrubbery, completely entombed into a tunnel of yellow and red.

Lucy reached the brown branches first. She reached out and touched them, a queer look on her face, and disappeared between them.

Edmund followed her, barely squeezing his manly frame in, muttering, "These are NOT branches!"

"They're coats," Susan said quietly.

Suddenly, we were all stuck—quite stuck—between a forest of coats!

"Oh stop!" cried Lucy in a high voice. "Peter, get off me!"

"Would you stop shoving," I hollered.

"Peter, I am not ON your toe!" Edmund cried.

Something inside of my brain, my heart, my life exploded with memories.

Last time I told him to get off my toe…we had been going the other direction…

A discovery of Narnia…

Through a Wardrobe…

Between coats just like these…

Into Spare Oom…or perhaps, a spare room…

A spare room—the Macready will catch us!

Just as I realized what we may be stumbling into, feeling suddenly smaller between the huge coats—I fell.

Susan stumbled.

Lucy tripped.

Edmund came down with me.

And then there was wood. A wood floor.

And we were in the Spare Room, in the Professor's house, in the countryside of England.

We weren't any longer Kings and Queens.

We were just plain old Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy.

"Oh…goodness!" cried Susan, looking down at herself, at her old clothes and old self.

"Did it really happen?" asked Lucy slowly, getting to her feet, and standing only three feet and some inches—a young girl again.

I stood and took her hand.

Edmund said, in a little boy's voice that had not deepened yet, "Of course it did, Lucy," and he took her hand.

Susan grasped mine and for a moment or two, we stood silent, staring at the Wardrobe—foreboding and solemn in the empty room.

With a strange sense of peace, I did not feel any remorse for our old friends, home of Cair Paravel, or even being sent back to the hard age of fifteen. It felt right.

And I felt like it wasn't the end of our adventures in Narnia.

As we turned and left the room—I could almost hear a distant roar of a lion, golden and strong, coming slightly muffled through the Wardrobe door.

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**I hope you all liked it! And this is not the end! There's more! Keep reading!**

**Srry so short, but it was short and sweet--or rather, bittersweet. Thank-you for coming with me on this journey, it has been truly fun and amazing for me. **

And please, continue to chalenge me for the rest of the story. I have so much I want to tell about the year between LWW and Prince Caspian!


	52. To Live a Normal Life

**To my reviewers;**

**I was thrilled with the reviews for this chapter!!!! I am so pleased you guys love it so much. It really makes me feel good, like I'm putting a little raw talent to use, and hope that I bless readers in along the way. I hope you all know that my family and friends _love_ my work, but they don't really read fan fiction, so it is more awesome than you know having YOUR support. Thanks!**

**The Pip

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**Disclaimer: I own nothing, wish I did. There are some direct quotes by Professor Kirke that are straight from LWW.

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**Chapter 52, a Normal Life**

I had gone quietly to my room, as did the girls to theirs, and sat forlornly on the bed. Finding myself fifteen again, (blast it, I really had enjoyed eighteen!) I found myself thinking more and more like young boy rather than an adult.

I was bored.

After so long of having horses to ride, adventures to find, evil to look for, voyages to go on—what on earth could I find to do in a mansion in England?

It was only a matter of minutes before Lucy and Susan joined us. Lucy sat with me, and Susan sat with Ed.

"What are we going to do?" Susan said finally.

"Continue on with our normal lives, I guess," Edmund said. "Now that I'm here, it isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was."

"Except we still have to stay here," Lucy said sorrowfully.

"No, it's a good thing," I said. "We'll have time to collect our thoughts and act normal before we return to London."

"That's just it," Lucy did not sound like she was crying, but a tiny wet path began to wind its way down her cheek. "But I haven't seen Mum for nearly…ten years!"

I put an arm around her. "I've missed her too."

"Oh no!" shouted Susan suddenly, leaping to her feet. My hands automatically went to my belt, but there was no sword hilt to rest my hand on.

"What is wrong, Madam?" Edmund shouted. His voice squeaked horribly in the middle. We all burst out laughing, which eased the tension immediately.

"Oh, stop that nonsense," Susan said crossly. "I'm just Susan now—plain old Susan. And I've just remembered something awful!"

"Go on, Su," I prompted.

"The old coats in that Wardrobe are certainly worth a fair share of pounds each," Susan said despairingly. "That is to say—expensive. And we've lost FOUR of them!"

"By jove!" whistled Edmund. "I left mine at the Beavers!"

"Then we left ours near the Great River," Lucy moaned.

"I guess we will have to tell the Professor," I stood.

"This is worse than the broken window," groaned Edmund.

"Well, we're all going," Lucy said immediately. "We lost ours as much as you lost yours."

With heavy hearts and a feeling of dread, we went to the Professor's study and knocked upon the heavy door.

"Come in!" he called cheerfully.

"Good morning, sir," I said sorrowfully.

"Do sit down," the Professor said politely. "Now then—I can tell by your faces you've got a lot on your minds."

"Yes," Lucy said softly. "You see—we've been upstairs in the Wardrobe…for awhile…"

Professor Kirke stood abruptly, came around front, and sat on the edge of his desk. He had a gleam in his eyes, and a half smile on his face. "Now then," he said very slowly. "What were ALL of you doing in that wardrobe?"

"Well, you see, sir," I said carefully, "You wouldn't believe us if we told you."

He leaned forward. "Try me."

We looked at each other.

It was Edmund who launched into the story, telling the Professor how awful he was to Lucy, and that we all ended up in Narnia. He recounted the story of his betrayal and told about how brave I was in battle and then our coronation. Susan took over then, and explained carefully how his coats came to be lost inside Narnia and how we will pay for the loss.

The Professor shook his head briskly. "No, no, coats aren't important. Go on with your story."

"But that's why we've told you this," Susan said, "To explain about them."

"Well, you can't exactly return to Narnia and try and get them, can you?" said the Professor seriously. "They are long gone. And what does it matter? They were old and moth eaten. What fabulous use you put them to! Like royal robes, indeed. Just remember, don't tell anyone. You'll be labeled crazy, and its even best you don't discuss it amongst yourselves. It will make things easier."

"Please sir," Lucy said quietly. "Will we ever get to go back?"

"Eh, what's that? Why, of course you'll go back. One a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen in Narnia. But you can never try to get there. You'll have to wait till your least expecting it. My word!" he turned abruptly and sat down, and began furiously writing in a book. "What DO they teach them at these schools?"

We all looked at each other in disbelief. He not only believed us, but had directly quoted from Aslan—maybe without realizing it. Or had he?

"Thank-you, sir," I said. We stood and slipped out of the room without him saying another word.

I don't know how we managed to go through the next week—whether it was making Lucy eat her vegetables that had been her favorite in Narnia, or waking in the middle of the night wondering if there were a few Dryad dances we could join. Edmund woke one morning asking me if I wanted to go for a ride. Susan missed her talks with Oreius and mourned over teaching her daily classes to the little Woodland children--beavers, badgers, and such. Susan missed her horse. Edmund thought he heard Philip once. Lucy cried herself to sleep almost nightly, wishing Mr. Tumnus could play his little flute for her. She had forgotten to say goodbye.

Like most grieving, time cures all. We spent a _whole month _more at the Professors, trying to keep our minds off it, yet thinking about it constantly. We spent hours playing tag in the heather fields, going and seeing Mrs. Macready's pony when we missed our own horses, played "swords" with sticks to keep our skill up, swam in the pond, and each wrote a long letter to Mum, saying that its felt like years since we've seen her.

Memories began to swarm back. Edmund had been quite a little beast, and he was going to return to Mum a new boy. Dad was fighting somewhere in the War, always in danger. We'd been through many wars. We knew how he felt.

I missed a lot of things—not just from Narnia, but my old home. I missed my old bed. I missed my books. I missed Mum. I missed Thomas Bennet. I missed that stupid stray cat that sat by the back door to see if we'd toss out any leftovers. I miss the picture of Dad that rested on the table in the sitting room.

Oh, and how I missed my best friends! Tumnus, Sallowpad, Oreius, the Beavers, even silly Knightly. Berry and Philip, Rumblebuffin and Gryphon….

I found it odd that the Professor believed us—yet it seemed right. He'd always been a little odd, I suppose now we were a "little odd" too. I thought the Professor maybe had his own story to tell. How I would love to hear it.

Funny things showed up here and there with the dreaded Macready, who in hr own way, didn't seem so bad after the enemies we faced before. Lucy decided one afternoon she was craving a glass of wine. Showing lack of better judgment, she said so directly in front of Mrs. Macready. Mrs. Macready huffed and puffed—and put her to bed. Susan accidentally called me "Sire" at the dinner table. Professor Kirke chuckled over and over, Mrs. Macready thought it was just some childish nonsense. Edmund asked her if he could ride her little white pony. She said no, of course. But Edmund thought there was no harm in asking because he really missed riding, and that was all. Macready assumed that he had ridden the pony before, without her permission, and made him stay in his room for an hour. After she spoke to me once about being more proper, when she turned to leave, I accidentally added, "You're dismissed". Something I was very used to saying when a conversation was over! She made me talk a walk around the house to clear my head of any other impudent ideas.

We polished them, and tried to overcome the funny habits we had developed. Our hard work paid off—at least, most of it—and when a letter came saying that we could return home, we were ready to lead a normal life as much as we could make it.

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**Finally, the Pevensies go home! YIPPEE!!!!**

**Read and Review!

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**Here's a sweet thought for today:

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**

**When C.S.Lewis died, he still continued to receive letters from admirers and fans of Narnia from all over the world. One little boy in particular, wrote a very sweet letter, saying;**

_**Dear Mr. Lewis,**_

_**I am VERY sorry to have heard that you died!

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**_

**Not only a kind thought, but living proof that a great man may die, but his legacy and impact on this sorry world will be forever.**


	53. The Return to London

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Hey Reviewers, it was awesome hearing from ya'll again, especially a few that have been absent as of late. Sorry it has taken me a long time to update. I lost my voice, my head is stuffed, I have a cough, haven't slept for about four nights, and I've missed nearly a week of school! So I'm going to try and feebly produce a good chapter. If it ends up being good, I'll just try and get sick more often. NOT.**

**cheers, **

**Pippin (sneezes profusely)

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**Chapter 53, The Return to London**

The summer morning dawned dry and prepared for another warm, August day. Dark gray clouds moved in right after sunrise and thunder rumbled in the east. The wind was hushed, and the trees shivered from some unknown thing.

"It would rain, wouldn't it," Edmund said cheerfully, staring into the sky. He said those words before, when we first arrived, the day Lucy discovered the wardrobe. However, he said this much happier than before.

"Summer really is over," lamented Lucy. "When we arrive at home we won't have long before we have to go to dreadful school."

"School isn't all bad," Susan said comfortingly.

Edmund and Lucy looked at her.

She shrugged. "I ought to know, I taught it!"

Professor Kirke came out onto the front steps, his hands clasped behind his back as he regarded us thoughtfully.

"Well, you're off to new adventures, are you?" he said briskly.

"No, just home," said Edmund.

"Well, you'll never know what might happen," said the Professor truthfully.

He shook hands with each of us in turn, and waited with us awhile, before the Macready brought that poor old pony about and we all clambered inside.

It felt odd leaving a place so unlike home, but held the doorway to our _real_ home. We waved dolefully to the Professor, who stood silent, with a hand held high in regard to us children he had so kindly agreed to care for. We kept our eyes on the old mansion, wishing we could relive the whole adventure again and again—until it was just a brown dot in the valley, then 'round a corner of trees—and disappeared from view.

We passed the lonely little post office, and within the hour, arrived at the quiet station. Mrs. Macready asked us all if we had our train tickets. We showed them to her and she gave a curt nod, wished us a safe journey, and was on her way again.

It wasn't long before we were all alone, waiting for the train. It was running late.

"I feel like we should be going _to _the Professors', not _leaving _it," said Susan, with a sigh.

"It does feel like the exact moment when she arrived with that pony and cart!" agreed Edmund.

"It was much colder then," Lucy said. "We were all wearing our coats."

"June was a little late for summer," I added.

"We may want our coats if those clouds arrive before the train does," said Edmund forlornly.

A silence between us ensued.

"We won't tell Mum or Dad, will we?" asked Lucy presently.

"I don't think so," Susan said.

"Why?" asked Edmund.

"Think about it," I said. "They wouldn't believe us. It's really not worth it, don't you think? The Professor said it was easier if we didn't talk about it much."

"But how would we know? He's never been there!" Edmund exclaimed.

"Do you know that, Ed?" I argued. "He certainly seemed Narnian enough. He believed us and even quoted something said the day of our coronation."

"It could be a coincidence," Susan said in her oldest Susan-ish voice.

"Oh Susan," laughed Lucy outright. "It's a magical land visited by four children. An old Professor believes our story even though he's never met us in his life. There can't be any coincidences!"

"Quite right," I muttered.

With a long, drawn-out wail, a trail of steam appeared, and soon a train chugging could be heard. Within moments, the great steam engine groaned and creaked to a halt before the platform.

The conductor came out, took our tickets, and with a cry of "All aboard!" we were bound for London.

The train ride was long and stuffy. I thought it would be different from our last journey—we had been so scared then. But this time it was different. We barely spoke to each other, we were all occupied with our own thoughts and apprehensions for returning home.

I was coming back to Mum a new man. I left so over confident of my own abilities, and way too self-dependant. I was humbled, I knew myself much better—I certainly was better with the sword than playing with sticks in the garden with Lucy.

What if Mum noticed how we had changed? Would she grow worried? What would she think of Edmund? What if she noticed how hard for us it would be adjust to daily activities?

My mind was awhirl with questions as the green country sped by and developed into well-kept neighborhoods and tall buildings. I stupidly worked myself up so much as to be terribly nervous and a have headache—though I don't know why.

There was a wrenching screech and a whine of wheels, and the train sighed to a stop. Streams of people crowded and jostled as if the train would leave before they dismounted.

Our legs felt uneasy on firm ground, after the smooth swaying of the train. I scanned the crowds fervently for our mother.

And there she was! She stood quite still, waiting for us to approach. Her brown coat looked a little more patched, her face whiter than I remembered. A golden smile lit her whole face when she spotted us. Her mouth moved in the shape of saying, "My babies…" and tears began to stream down her pale cheeks.

"Mum!" shouted Lucy, pushing her way through the throng.

"Lucy!" Mum choked, knelt, and opened her arms for Lucy's exuberant embrace that nearly knocked her back. "How much you've grown!"

"More than I look," said Lucy, returning to her old ways of sobbing if sad, happy, or both. She clung to Mum for moment. I had nearly forgotten for Lucy, a child's grief and fright of leaving her mother was greater, as it were she hadn't seen her in almost ten years.

"Susan, darling," Mum finally moved from Lucy. She embraced her tightly. "How well you look, dear!" Mum put a hand to her glowing cheek. "So…so grown up."

I finally shouldered my way through and wrapped my arms around her, smelling her perfume and scent of mint leaves.

"You've grown too!" she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and surveying me. Her gaze softened. "You've taken care of them. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank-you, Mum," I stepped back.

Edmund stood nearly six feet away, his hands twisting and clasping together as if very nervous. He could barely meet her gaze.

"Hello, Edmund," Mum said a little sadly.

Edmund walked slowly forward. "Mum, before you say anything, I have something to say first."

"All…all right. I'm listening, dear."

"Mum," Edmund said stoutly, finally lifting his head and looking her in the eye. "Mum, I have to apologize. I've been worthless beast. I was always doing something wrong and disobeying you." His voice broke. "If you had been hurt by the bombing while we were gone, I don't know how I could have--" he threw his arms around her and whispered chokingly, "I'm sorry. I'd be obliged if you'd lock me up for the rest of the life."

"But," Mum smiled through her tears and kissed his head. "If I would lock you up, it certainly would deprive me the pleasure of being with you, I _have_ missed you!"

She pulled back and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. "I never stopped loving you."

"I didn't think anyone loved me."

"Did you?" Mum wrapped an arm around him. "Oh, my dear, I've never been so happy as to correct you!"

Edmund smiled.

I collected the luggage. Lucy held Mum's hand, Mum had an arm around Edmund, I held Lucy's other hand, and Susan took Edmund's hand.

We were together again! And we were going home at last!

I laughed outright—just because. I was with my family again, I was going home, everything had turned out so right.

"What's so funny, Peter?" asked my mother, her eyes twinkling with the feeling only a mother can know.

"Nothing!" I squeezed Lucy's hand. "I'm just so happy to be back."

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**Sorry if it seemed a little shorter.**

**Hope you all liked it! Send your reviews! I'm off to have some tea, halls cough drops, and to finish off my fourth tissue box this week. **

**have a grand ol' weekend!**

**God Bless,**

**Pip**


	54. A Day Out

**Hey Everyone! So happy with all those reviews. Thanks for continuing to support my writing. I appreciate it. I really hope you like this chapter.**

**With His love to all,**

**Pip

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**Chapter 54, A Day Out**

There was a noise coming from the window. It was almost a tapping, clinking sound. I opened one eye and peered over the edge of the bedclothes.

It was raining.

I had forgotten what rain sounded like against a roof of wood—and the ceiling was so close to my head, rather then twenty feet above. It seemed very loud.

I expected to see Sallowpad fussing about, cursing the weather and his rumpled feathers. Rather…Edmund was snoring in bed.

I used to be accustomed to his snoring, but after living in separate bedrooms for such a long time, I found I couldn't fall back to sleep.

I put on my blue robe and snuck out of the room, creaking down the hall and walking into the dark living room. The grandfather clock chimed one o'clock in the morning.

Suddenly, the lamp by Dad's arm chair flipped on, and Mother sat in it, crossing her arms over her chest. It startled me enough to make me grab for the handle of my sword, but met with the bathrobe tie instead.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, yawning.

"Couldn't sleep," I said, shrugging. "I…suppose I'll have to get used to my own bed again."

"The Professor's guest rooms were probably much more comfortable?"

"The sheets were very scratchy," I said truthfully.

Mum uncrossed her arms. "What were you up to?"

"I was going to get some milk, or tea, or something." I wished Tumnus made us more wine, that's what I was really wanting.

"Mm," Mum said quietly.

"What are you doing up?" I asked.

"Oh, just," Mum stopped. "I like to come sit down in Dad's armchair when I miss him. It smells like him, you know."

"Like vanilla smoke and mint leaves," I said, remembering the slight trace of it on Mum's coat. I smiled at the memory.

"Can I join you?" Mum asked as I turned for the kitchen.

"Of course," I replied.

We sat in the kitchen, talking about life while we were away. She said it was lonesome, and sometimes frightening, but she stayed busy at the Red Cross or helped her neighbors.

We talked for fifteen minutes or so before my eyes grew so heavy with sleep she ordered me back to bed. I readily complied.

That next morning, gray sunlight lit the drenched ground and predicted a warm day to dry the earth.

We'd barely have time to get up, wash, and eat something for breakfast before the telephone jangled on its hook.

Lucy leapt to her feet. "I've missed answering our telephone!"

Mother grinned at her quizzically.

"Hello?" Lucy said, a huge smile on. "Oh. I see. Peter, its for you," she handed it towards me. I stood and took it from her, my first expectancy was that it was Thomas Bennet. But no. It would have to be someone else.

"Hullo?" I said. "This is Peter."

"Peter! It's Harold!" An old friend from school.

"Good morning, Harold. What are you up to to-day?"

"Me and the fellows are heading down to the lake this morning. Little fishing, swimming, and we were wondering if you'd like to come along with us."

I glanced at the breakfast table. Mum was reading the paper, Edmund was itching to walk down to the bookstore for a book about medieval ages. (what a change that boy went through!) Lucy and Susan were planning some sort of gardening activity.

I asked Mum's permission. She smiled and told me yes.

"I'll come, Harold. Where, exactly?"

"Well, let's meet at the gate on Harrison's road and walk the rest."

"Sounds fine. See you there." I hung up.

"This is the first time in a—I mean, all summer, that we're all going off and doing something different," Lucy said practically, blinking at me.

"I know, funny, isn't it?" I leaned down and kissed her cheek, then Mum's, then Susan's. I reached over and gave Edmund a bear hug even after he teasingly tapped his waiting cheek.

"Be back at noon," called Mum.

I grabbed my tackle from the cupboard and was off at a brisk pace, enjoying the morning sunshine and swinging my box cheerfully.

I met Harold and the boys at the designated place. James, Albert, and Charles were with him. I waved and we shook hands all 'round.

"Aren't we glad the rain cleared up," Albert said, peering at the sky as we resumed our walk down the dirt road.

"It kept me up last night," I agreed.

"So when'd you get back?" Harold asked.

"Three days ago," I replied.

"I got back last night!" laughed James. "The folks are out on business and I had no one else to be out with…" his voice trailed off.

"Well, that's why you've got us," I said.

Charles shouldered a pack. "Not that we're any good at fishing, but the company can't be any worse, can it?"

We laughed and settled in general chatter before we finally arrived at the lake, fully stocked and waiting for our hooks.

Nearly an hour later, we hadn't caught anything.

"Anything?" shouted James from a rock where he perched.

"Nothing," called Harold.

"I've got something!" screamed Albert, leaping to his feet. "Oh. Tis nothing but my own worm. He's putting up quite a fight."

"Well, reel him in, and maybe your Mum will fry him for your supper," Charles joked.

"Whew," James suddenly shaded his eyes and peered farther down shore. "What a catch that would be."

"Who, her?" Albert pointed to a young girl sitting on a rock yards away and putting her feet into the water.

"Yeah," James leapt down from his rock. "Don't deny she's pretty."

"She's beautiful," Charles said. "But she's a little batty."

"Who are you preying on now, James?" I asked.

"Elizabeth Rutherford," James said, plopping down beside me. "From school, remember?"

I tried to remember from "last year". "No…I'm afraid I don't."

"Well, come on, what to you make of her?"

I sighed and looked at her. "I don't know."

"Come on, Pete," said Charles playfully. "Don't deny you've never thought a girl pretty. You must think something."

"She seems fine," I said cautiously. If they were planning any matchmaking…

Harold picked a flower from the ground. "Well, James, if you don't hurry up and ask her to dine with you, then I shall--"

James whisked the flower from his hand. "Oh no you don't. This is my girl. I'll do the asking."

"She isn't 'anyone's' girl," I said politely. If Narnia taught me anything, it taught me the independence of everything—including women.

"Well said," Harold laughed. "When you are ready for women, Peter, they'll find you're quite a Shining Knight."

I laughed so hard I cried. "You have no idea, Harold. No idea at all."

We dropped conversation and watched James meekly cover the ground between us and the girl and handed her the flower, speaking quietly so we couldn't overhear. When he came back, he was smiling.

"Well man?" Harold asked as he and Albert gathered round him.

"She turned me down," grinned James.

Charles smiled. "Ah, she turned you—wait, why is that a good thing?"

"I'm not allowed to go out with girls until I am the proper age of seventeen, that's why. If she accepted I'd be in deep water!"

We all laughed. James wasn't ashamed of his parents rule for his love life, merely relieved that this Elizabeth person had turned him down.

"Well, I guess it is your turn, Peter," Albert said, examining his struggling worm before plopping it in the water again. "Unless you are scared."

"How could a girl be scary?" I pictured dragons, giants, and witches. "But I'm not asking her to go out with me. That's a rude thing to do if I have no feelings for her."

"But Peter," said Charles, "Everyone else does."

"Not me," I replied.

The conversation was dropped momentarily, as we concentrated on our poles, hoping that we sent signals to draw the fish to us. After a second, I stole a look at this "oh so special" Elizabeth Rutherford.

I was surprised to find she was watching _me. _I raised my eyebrows. The nerve of some people. And she did not drop her gaze, neither. In fact, she held it until I finally shrugged and stared back into the water. My kingly senses felt that she continued to stare at me even as I stopped looking towards her.

She was beautiful, I'll admit. But so was the Witch.

The discussion about girls threw off our talent for catching something, and by noon, I went home empty handed. So much for catching some fish with the skills I'd picked up as a fisherman in Narnia. I guess I left it in the wardrobe…along with my beard, cape, crown, and everything else I felt funny without.

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**Read and Review, or I shall bestow the honor upon thee of eating brocolli and cream of Spinach. Enjoy!**


	55. Turning Sixteen Again

**Hey everyone,**

**Wow, it's been really surprising how many of you like your vegetables! I think I need to offer something that no one could really eat. Not that I could force feed you through a computer screen or anything. **

**And thanks to AmyAmidala for one of the nicest compliments ever. I have been really worried that my fic would get dim, grim, and die out because it was so long—I hoped I could convince enough of you to stay with the hope of a plot twist. (which is still in the making, by the way). Thanks to all of you for really sticking it out! **

**I appreciate your enthusiasim! **

**May God continue to bless and keep you!**

**PIPPINATOR!

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**Chapter 55, Turning 16 Again**

The day was another perfect September day. Never a perfect day by Narnia accounts, but as gorgeous and picturesque as England could conjure up. In Narnia it had been a warm day, still in Narnian summer season, in England, it was cold—but in a nice way. In rained that morning, cleared up in the afternoon, and the sun came out. Already the leaves were falling from the trees, brown and sodden, but the golden sky made everything beautiful.

I thought it would be fun to take my party to the movies, but Mum said the newsreels were growing too horrible and ghastly. It would ruin your party before it barely begun, she stated. I agreed.

The house was cleaned ceiling to floor, and two balloons were bought for the occasion—one red, and one yellow. The color of the banner we hung before we always went to battle.

Harold, Albert, James, and Charles were coming. Lucy and Susan would be there, of course, and I agreed to let them invite three more girls. Mum bought a cake, and a strangly wrapped gift already sat on the kitchen table. I was itching to open it.

In a way, I wished we could light a bonfire and dance all around it, but what would my friends think? I'd think the same thing if I were them—I'd think myself Mad. Rather, we were going to eat the cake and open gifts, then just sit around and enjoy eachother's company, maybe play a game or something. It was the second time I was turning 16, and it was going to—compared to Narnia—be one of the strangest birthdays I ever had.

At a quarter to seven, the guests were due to come. I plopped into Dad's armchair, nearly giddy with excitement. Susan and Lucy came down, dressed properly, and settled on the couch.

"So…" I broke the following silence. "Susan, who did you invite?"

"Hmm," Susan began to mentally count them off on her fingers. "Sally Brock."

"Oh, good, she is a load of laughs," I said, remembering a time she lost a bet at school (girls aren't supposed to gamble, in my opinion) and had to stick her head in a mud hole.

"Janette Renaldo," Susan continued. "Oh, and our new neighbor, Elizabeth Rutherford."

"OH no!" I exclaimed. "You didn't!"

"Yes," Susan said smugly. "I did."

"She's our neighbor?" I said after a moment.

"Yes, three blocks from here."

"Oh." I hoped the boys would not teaze her tonight. That would be dreadful. If anything, as long as we stayed apart so the boys would not get any ideas, but close enough so I could hush them up if necessary, that would be…a good idea. But still. Elizabeth Rutherford? What possessed you, Susan?

The bell rung, and the troop paraded in. Janette and Sally first, giggling, and Albert and Charles followed. They all said their hellos and plopped gifts on the table, creating pleasant chaos. Elizabeth showed up next, handing me a poorly wrapped gift and sitting shyly next to Susan. The boys said shocked hellos to her, and looked at me questionably, hooting and laughing. Susan quickly engaged her in conversation. Edmund tumbled down the stairs, late as usual, and opened the door for James and Harold.

Finally, we were all seated around the room, chatting comfortably and talking about our summers.

"Didn't you invite Ken? Or Matthew, or Jeremiah?" asked Harold.

"Yes, and Felicity and Madeline?" asked Janette.

"They are still away," I admitted. "Supposedly, they are still hidden away in the country."

"I do hope they get back before school starts," said Elizabeth politely.

"They'd be lucky if they stayed," Albert whooped. "How fine to miss school!"

"You know you enjoy it once you get back," scolded Susan.

"Susan Pevensie," Albert said, "If I got good scores like you, I _would_ enjoy it."

I noticed James watching Elizabeth, pained looks across his features. So the boy still had a dose of puppy love. Well let it stay there.

Within a moment or two, Mum began serving plates of cake—strawberry cake—and chocolate muffins. Soon compliments of the food choice were all around, and left not much room for other conversation. Charles broke in during eating with a question for everyone.

"So…what did you all do out in the country?"

Everyone pondered awhile. The boys had mostly already discussed this, but the girls hadn't had time to share.

"It was ghastingly boring!" sighed Janette. "With two old aunties in a cottage. I mostly read and sewed all summer. I missed Berkahms."

"Berkahms?" Sally huffed. "What a fine thing to miss. I missed only my dog. I went to a country cottage too—but I did so much exploring! It was such fun! I climbed trees, explored caves, fished, made necklaces from daisies--"

"Did you wash your hair in any mud holes?" asked Charles sullenly.

Sally threw a fist at his face, missing on purpose, laughing. "Mention the instance again, Freckle-Face, and we go to war."

"We're already at war," Charles insisted.

"There's plenty of war without making some," Elizabeth said sullenly.

"Quite true," I hastened to agree so she would feel embarrassed.

"Of course," said Edmund, following my lead. "Don't let your rivalry grow too big. We may not want to invite you both to the same party again."

Sally and Charles laughed and declared a temporary peace treaty for the party.

The evening passed with general merriment, and I will be the first to admit I was eager to open the gifts. Finally, Harold insisted we begin.

Mum brought in a chair from the kitchen and told me to begin.

"Family presents first," Lucy squeaked, barely containing herself. She was good at secrets, but it was torturous for her to not tell.

I opened hers first to settle her excitement. It was a fine pen, a new fangled ball point, perfect for writing during long periods of time.

From Susan, a blank journal, with a cover of red fabric. I winked at her, remembering the significance of such a gift. It was the same she had given me all those years ago for my last 16th birthday.

From Mum, a new shirt, white, with a nice collar. From Edmund, the book about Medieval Ages he had bought for himself, _For the High and Mighty Brother, _read the card.

From Harold, a new set of hooks, _FOR MORE FISHING TRIPS!—_said the inscription.

From James, an electric torch. And from Albert, some more fishing lures. From Janette, a set of handkerchiefs with my initials sewn on them. "On of the things I made over my boring summer," she laughed.

From Elizabeth Rutherford, a book wrapped in a bit of green cloth. It was a book about horses. "I don't even know if you like horses," she said, embarrassed, and blushing to the roots of her brownish red hair. "But if had stayed at a country estate, you might have done some riding."

"A little," I said. "Thank-you, I love it. I love horses, too."

She was comforted.

From Charles, I was surprised to find a pillowcase. He was always giving strange and silly gifts. Sewn on the pillow case were two big, blue numbers, a one and a six.

"You won't easily forget your 16 if you see that every night," Charles explained. We all had a very good laugh over that one. Sally presented me with a small box full of oddly shaped stones, all kinds of colors.

"I picked those up while I did all my exploring," she said. "And I hear their even worth a bit of money. I worked hard on that collection, so, you can't sell it, but--"

"I wouldn't dream of it," I laughed. "I'll put them in a jar so I can see them all."

After the gifts, I thanked each and every one, and meant it. Not one of the those gifts was something I wasn't going to enjoy looking at or using. Each one was special in its own way.

Finally, at eight, everyone declared it time to leave me with my toys. I said goodbye to James and Albert. Harold gave me a hug and told me to remember it, because he was never going to do it again. Charles pretended to kiss me, but ducked down and gave Lucy a kiss on the cheek instead. Sally shook my hand with a grip rough and firm like a young man. Elizabeth curtseyed shyly and said something inaudible, and left quickly. Janette waved gaily and ran to catch up to Elizabeth, kindly offering her an invitation to sleep at her house that night and have some girly fun. Susan and Lucy waved dolefully, and Edmund saw everyone outside.

"Thanks Mum," I gave her a kiss. "I think everyone had fun."

"I think…so…too…" Mum hesitated, looking down at Lucy.

She was frozen in place, staring after Charles, and rubbing her cheek.

"It was all in play, Lu," I assured her.

"Why did it have to be Him, of all kids," she muttered. We all laughed at her predicament and went upstairs.

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**Will he see Elizabeth Rutherford again??? Will he manage to keep his friends from teasing him?? Will he ever convince Susan he's not in love with her? And will they every catch any fish???**

**I hope I answer these questions. I may, I may not. MUAHAHA.

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**Read and Review, or you shall have to eat Albert's worm bait. **

**There, that's a threat none of you can respond with, "MMmmm, of course, I like worms!" lol!**


	56. An Unexpected Adventure

**To my Reviewers:**

Hey everybody! Thanks for being so patient for the next chapter.

Just to let everyone know:

--There will not be any romance. In my opinion, Peter can think a girl is hott or cute but he will NOT FALL in love.

--It actually says, I believe, at the beginning of Prince Caspian—that it was the first time going away at school _apart_, possibly implying they'd all been to school together before. I could be wrong, but that was my impression.

--The Village is a very good movie. You should see it. M. Night Shackalacka (my nickname for the genius director/writer) has brought a real winner. Sorry, random, but that's what I watched two days ago, soo...

Anyways, hope you all like it.

_**Pip Baggins

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_**WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That festering plot twist has finally burst forth.**

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**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, I should be rich and famous and I'd go by my real name rather than Pippin Baggins!!!

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**_

**Chapter 56, An Unexpected Adventure**

I lay in bed wondering what to do about Susan. Ever since my sixteenth party of two (and a half) weeks ago, she was pestering without relenting about Elizabeth Rutherford. Would I call on her? Go to HER birthday celebration? "Accidently" run into her at the lake, where she happens to go every day? I wasn't in love with this girl, and Susan would…not…stop…bothering…me.

Unfortunately, I was going to the lake today. Mum wanted me to catch fish for dinner-time. And…I would see Elizabeth Rutherford. (I could never seem to just stop at "Elizabeth").

I dragged my feet all the way to the lake. I made my way slowly down the block, a left at the drug store, a shortcut through the alley, over the back fence, through the field, into the woods, and finally to the lake.

Elizabeth Rutherford sat on a rock, swinging her bare feet in the water. She looked up when I appeared under the edge of the trees and waved politely.

"Good morning," I called, settling just on the other side of the bend, where the lake curved slightly southwards. I got out my pole and tackle and began the long morning of waiting for a catch. While I waited, I read my new medieval history book from Edmund. I wished he had come along. He had come yesterday and went swimming in the nearly freezing water and caught a cold. So now I had to be alone…with Elizabeth Rutherford. Not that I didn't like her, I happen to like nearly everyone I meet. But I felt very uneasy around her. Something wasn't right about her. She was too shy than any "shy person" I'd ever seen. She came to the lake every single day to be all alone. The only social outing she had _ever gone to _was my party, and since then has said "No thank-you" to any invitations from people who wanted to get to know her.

She was just plain peculiar.

My thoughts were broken by a splash. I looked up and saw that Elizabeth had fallen in the water. Well, she definitely wasn't going swimming. It was too cold outside.

Sometimes a King has to do what a King has to do.

I walked (not ran, _walked_) over and said apprehensively, "Elizabeth?"

She came up spluttering, and crying, and trying to pull herself back onto her rock.

So now I was going to have to be chivalrous! I immediately thanked the Lion no one else had been here today.

I went down the steep bank, wondering why she chose this particular spot. The rock was not very stable and could shift without warning, and the lake was nearly eight feet deep in this spot, no "shallows" for wading.

I reached out for her. "Elizabeth, give me your hand."

At first, clinging to wet reeds, she only looked at me.

"Come on, you don't want to catch a cold, now, do you?"

Her eyes glimmered with something very much like tears, anger, and fright. She took my hand and I hauled the poor girl out.

"Thanks," she sniffled.

I immediately left her, went back for my coat, and brought it to her. She accepted it and wrapped it around her soggy clothes. She stared at the water, wiping away tears.

I sighed. Girls!

"What happened?" I finally ventured.

"I jumped in." She did not look at me.

"It didn't _look_ like you can swim," I said questioningly.

"I suppose I can't," she said, frowning. "I _thought_ I could…but, well, it didn't work."

"Hmm…okay…." I sighed again. She really was peculiar.

"Are you alright?" I asked after a moments pause.

"I thought you'd never ask," Elizabeth replied, shivering.

My voice faltered. "_WHAT_ _did you say?_"

"I said, 'I thought you'd never ask'," Elizabeth suddenly blinked. "I'm fine."

I grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me."

She looked up. "What's wrong? I said I'm fine."

"You won't be when I'm through with you," I growled. "_**Leyli**_."

She said nothing.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaimed. "What's happened to you?"

"I…I don't know," Elizabeth—um, or Leyli—said roughly. "I can't swim."

"Listen to my question," I lapsed into my old king voice. "And choose your answer carefully. How did you get here?"

"I...I don't remember," she stuttered.

"Yes, you do."

"There was a storm, and, I was suddenly inside a room, with my family."

"I thought your father was dead."

"He was! I have a new family. Human." She shrugged away. "They all knew me, and I knew them. I had memories. It was as if I never left."

"Aslan put you with a family…here in London?"

"He made it as if I was here always. My family accepted me in like a lost daughter. People I didn't even know said they remembered me from school. Aslan made me known to all of them, but I knew no one."

I sat back on my heels. Of all the strange things to happen from being in Narnia, this is one I did not expect.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay about this?"

She jerked away. "It takes a little getting used to, don't you think?"

"Well, yes, I'm still not used to it. But I understand."

"Not being on Earth, that's easy. Being Human! I can't swim, I can't sing, I cannot stand the cold anymore. I cannot grow a pair of fins if I like for easier well-passage." She glared at me. "You will never understand!" she spat out her words. "YOU NEVER HAVE."

I wasn't expecting immediate anger from her. But then again, I did banish her, didn't I? I knew it was right by Aslan. But who said being right was easy.

"Leyli--" I started.

"It's _Elizabeth_," she said sourly.

"I'm sorry. Elizabeth." I knelt again in front of her. "I know I'm the cause of all this. And I'm so dreadfully, awefully sorry. Can you ever forgive me? I want to be friends. I'm no king anymore, you're not a flirty naiad. There are loads of opportunities. We can be friends—normal, human, friends. How does that sound?"

"I savvy," Elizabeth nearly smiled. "I was also given a British vocabulary."

"That's good to know," I said. "Come on, now, Leyli—I mean, Elizabeth. Let's be friends?"

She hesitated. "Well, I…" she held out her hand slowly to shake on it. "I suppose."

I leaned over and gave her a welcoming embrace—whish surprised both her, and maybe myself. She sniffled in my shoulder for a second.

"Don't start crying," I begged, pulling back.

"One day, Mr. High and Mighty," she said, pointing her finger at me and using the other to wipe her eyes. "You will understand girls and find that emotions are hard to control for them. How odd that we've both gone back to a young age!"

"At least we get twice as many birthdays," I joked.

"At least _I_ kept my maturity level," The Leyli side of her shot back.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I said sarcastically.

"Figure it out, King," she stood and looked down at me. "Can I see you again tomorrow?"

"Perhaps. If I cannot come tomorrow, just leave my coat here for me?"

"Sure…sure I can do that…" she paused, a change coming over her face. "Thank-you."

"Your welcome," I said kindly, standing. "Will you be alright going home?"

"Yes, thanks," she said, eyeing me almost suspiciously. "Good-bye."

"Good-bye," I said, watching her as she walked under the eave of the woods and waved politely. I waved back.

I walked slowly back to my spot and sat heavily, wondering what in the name of Aslan that had been all about! What prompted Aslan to do this? How incredibly…random, strange, and…almost nice. I'd missed someone who was a true Narnian. I almost missed Leyli.

"Will you ever let up?" I asked the sky sarcastically, jerking my pole back.

There was a _five pounder_ trout on the other end.

"Well…keep it coming," I added truthfully. Who knows what changes could come now!

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**WELL, how did you like my plot twist? Huh, huh??? READ AND REVIEW POR FAVOR! I'm really, really excited to hear what ya'll have to say about this 'un!

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**No flames please:-(**


	57. Farewell to a Naiad

**Well, everyone, it's good to be back! Sorry I haven't written in a while! I got pretty picked up on my LOTR story. I hope you all forgive the long wait, thank-you for being so patient!

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**Chapter 57, Farewell to a Naiad**

"No!" I groaned as I awoke on a gray, gray morning. "No, not again!"

"It isn't morning, is it?" Edmund buried his head beneath the pillow.

"First morning of…" I couldn't even say it.

"If you are thinking school, your wrong," laughed Edmund. "Boarding school doesn't start until two days from to-day."

"But we have to leave today," I sat up and thrust the blanket back. "Poor Lu will be left behind again, Susan will be off to girls school, and you and I will be…"

"At Winston's school for boys," Edmund filled in, throwing himself out of his bed. "It has a horrid name."

"It isn't so bad once you get there," I sighed. "It's leaving that's the hard part."

"At least next year Lu can go and keep Susan company," Ed said, pulling on his sweater. "She has one more year of freedom."

"Or just normal school, like we used to go to," I corrected. "It was much nicer growing older in Narnia, wasn't it?"

Edmund got a dreamy look on his face. "No school."

"Save for the woodland children," I laughed.

"I still can't believe you let the animal kiss your feet."

"I still can't believe you denied them the privilege."

"Privilege? It's a custom! Not all customs need to be followed."

Suddenly Mother's voice was heard on the other side of the door. "What kind of customs would that be, Edmund?"

Edmund froze. I opened the door for Mum, saying quickly, "He means school."

"It's no custom, either," laughed Mum. "And it's not tradition. It just is. Education is important to your Father and I."

"I wish Dad was here to see us off," Edmund lamented, pulling a few dusty books off the shelf and shoving it in a knapsack.

"As do I, the autumn and winter will be very lonely," Mum said quietly, handing a suitcase to me and a suitcase to Edmund. "Here's some smaller ones to take on the train with you. Pack a few books."

"Definitely these ones," Edmund pulled out a few books he'd collected during our last weeks of summer. All about love, war, and adventure—each one of them had a high content of fantasy "creatures" or "beings".

"It's amazing about your sudden taste in books," Mum said with a twinkle in her eye.

"What do you expect?" said Edmund sarcastically. "We stayed with a Professor!"

----

I had not told Edmund about Leyli Elizabeth. I'd blurted the news to Susan, when she began pestering me again about asking her out. Susan clammed up them and never mentioned it again.

I decided, with a grin, for Leyli Elizabeth's safety to wait till we were at school to tell Edmund the news. Wouldn't he be surprised!

She is going to be surprised, too, I thought with a half-groan, when I show up at her house to bid a farewell. She was new to Earth, so I might as well let her know I was off. It would be rude to leave her alone if she had any questions or needed to talk of her old home for awhile. It was only right.

I went a familiar route to the Rutherford's house, having been there with the lad's a few times to drop of a paper or deliver an order from the shipyard. (We got a bit of extra pocket-money for these).

I knocked on the door, stepped back, and waited. No one came for quite a bit. I gave up and turned around to leave, when it creaked open behind me.

"What do you want?" Elizabeth asked.

"Hullo!" I said, turning back. "May I speak with you for a small minute?"

Leyli Elizabeth looked back in the house, and instead of inviting me inside, grabbed a coat, shut the door behind her and came out. "Let's walk instead," she said.

"Very well," we walked down the path and continued side-by-side along the rim of the yard, till we reached a junction. After that was a bit of orchard that ran along the road for miles. We walked in the soft dirt between the trees and stone.

"I wanted to tell you I'm off to school," I said, thrusting my chilly hands in my pockets.

"You too?" asked Leyli Elizabeth. "Oh, that is a bad bit of luck. When does your train leave?"

"Tonight," I checked my pocket watch. "Ed and I leave on the four o' clock train, Su leaves this morning."

"I'm leaving tomorrow, anyhow," Elizabeth Leyli said sadly. "I'm going off to a school too! Oh, the fun of being human," she added sarcastically.

"Maybe you'll like it," I said.

She looked at me. "No. I won't."

"You may."

"I won't."

"You might."

"I won't!"

"You should."

"I won't!!"

"It's the last time we'll see each other for a bit," I said presently, following her last outburst. "We shan't waste time arguing."

"There is no argument, Peter," Elizabeth said, her eyes shimmering in a water-like way. She looked very, very Leyli at that moment. "Deep down, I'm a naiad! I won't be going to the lake anymore. I'll be cooped up in a big building, from morning till four, studying lessons and things I know nothing about, and then I shall live in a dorm with many other girls, none of whom will like me."

I couldn't say it wasn't true, I couldn't read the future, it could probably be true as much as we wished it to be false.

"All I can say is, I wish you luck," I reached over and gave her a one arm embrace. "Let's get together again at Christmas holidays."

"Yes, let's," Leyli said eagerly, smiling. "Thanks for walking. Have a good school…thing."

"Term? Trimester? Quarter?"

"Whatever that means," Leyli waved and walked into the orchard. "You take care of yourself, now, and tell the others goodbye."

"That I will," I waved farewell and turned back again, headed towards my house. I really hoped she'd like it. I had a sudden vision of her pouring over books, and looking smart, and I smiled. She'd be fine. She was going to learn much, and I think she'd love it. Aslan would bless her for going and trying, wouldn't he? I think he would.

Back to my own dilemna! I was off to school this evening, and back to horrible things…

And it wasn't hags, minotaurs, or witches!

It was Latin, Algebra, Geometry, Science…I shuddered at the thought of the return to those thick bound books full of figures and letters.

I prayed upward that time would fly quickly and we'd all be back together again, in our own home, reminiscing of the time spent apart. I was certainly going to miss my sisters. Our happy relationships built in Narnia kept being wrenched apart again and again. How I missed that place so.

Another school year was starting, and I was in a funny in-between place. I wasn't excited, nor very happy, but I held an anticipation that came whenever something incredibly good was going to happen. I just had no idea what it was going to be!

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**Sorry so short, just getting back into the drill of things. It's hard switching from the goofiness/joking character of Nate (from my other story) to deep thinking, chivalrous Peter.**

**Read and Review or I'll make thee some sushi, followed by fillet of tomato and a cauliflower milkshake. Muahaha. **


	58. Argument Between Strangers

**Hey there everyone! I am dreadfully ashamed of myself for taking this long to update. You've all been very, very patient. I will no longer threaten to make you eat nasty foods. ;-) Merry Christmas (thought belated) to ya'll, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Pippinator

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Disclaimer: Apples are Red,

Violence is blue

I don't own the Pevensies

and neither do you!

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**Chapter 58, Argument between Strangers**

The train whistle blew, a loud screech on the wind, wailing as if despairing: "Must we go to school?"

I waved dolefully. Mum waved sadly from the platform, no doubt remembering sending us to the country during the holidays. Ed waved sadly, and then sat back in his chair.

"What are we going to do, Peter?" he asked plaintively.

"Study?" I offered. The train jerked and began to crawl away.

"Study, yes," said Edmund. "But what of acting normal? I feel crazed that we aren't in Narnia, taking care of things. Who is ruling in our stead?"

"Tumnus and Sallowpad, like we always planned," I sighed.

The cab door slid open, and two more occupants joined us. Edmund and I resumed talking—carefully switching tactics to this years fishing season.

A girl and boy came in, the boy was older than I, and brown haired. The girl had fiery red hair and looked my age. The girl timidly sat next to Ed, and the boy next to me.

"Where are you off to?" I asked politely.

"Winston," replied the boy, rather unsociably.

"So are we," I said. "This is Edmund, my brother. I'm Peter. Peter Pevensie."

The boy seemed to shake himself out of his refrain, and shook my hand. "Nice to meet another poor soul. I'm William, and that lass over there is Ella, she is my cousin."

Edmund, for an odd reason, mouthed, "Ladies man!" and hastily opened a book to read to himself.

"How do you do," I said.

Ella looked at me with disdain. "Not very well. Why should YOU ask?"

"Forgive her," said William. "She is from Ireland and has a temper to match the hair."

She kicked him promptly in the shin across the small space of floor.

"Ow!" he cried, feeling the probable bruise. "You try my patience, woman, and I AM glad you are off to a ladies school. Maybe you will learn manners."

"It isn't I who needs to learn manners," said Ella. "It is everyone else who needs to learn not to prompt me."

"Does it take much to prompt you?" muttered Edmund to himself.

"Ed!" I exclaimed.

"Not much, compared to how much be needed for bookworms," Ella snapped, glaring at him.

Edmund recoiled and felt his belt—something that both he and I did often, wishing we had swords.

"That was harsh, Ella," William sighed. "That's why we're on the same train. I have to keep her from killing people."

"Just like reading books keeps me from strangling strange girls," added Edmund quietly.

I gasped and shut my mouth again. Where was Ed coming up with this? He was in a much, much worse mood about school than I expected.

Ella turned towards him. "If we lived a good fifty years ago, I'd of challenged you to a duel of the death."

Forget my first impression. She barely looked—er, acted—older than Edmund.

"It doesn't matter what century it is," Edmund laughed outright, staring into his book absentmindedly. "If I had a sword I'd take care of you now."

"It's just playful banter now," William whispered. "This is normally how she makes friends."

"Fascinating," I replied. William and I just sat back and watched the spectacle.

"If you had sword?" Ella scoffed. "Doesn't a lad like you have a sword?"

"I lost it over the holidays while sweeping off someones head," Ed replied.

I stared daggers at him. He'd better not say TOO much…

"Playing knights and dragons over the holidays, little boy?" Ella sounded bored of him.

"No," Edmund closed his book. "Disposing the world of annoying redheads."

"Get to know me better and you'll have to eat your words," Ella crossed her arms.

"Well, join a _boys boarding school, _and maybe it will happen," Edmund joked.

William sighed, closed his eye, and laid his head back for a nap.

"Excuse me," I said interrupting Ella's reply. She glared at me. "Sorry to interrupt this exceedingly interesting interlude, but may I beg your leave for a little peace and quiet? Mr. William is sleeping, and I intend to read my book. Would you be so kind as agree to disagree?"

Ella pointed at Edmund. "If we see each other again, and I certainly hope we do—you seem like a nice laddie who can do good sport, we'll finish this conversation?"

"Aye," Edmund nodded, and went back to his book.

I rubbed my head. Edmund certainly surprises people. I wonder what all his old friends—the ones that taught him to bully and do wrong—were going to do with this funny, kind, playful boy?

I certainly hoped Edmund would stand his ground and remain as he is now.

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Sorry so short! I have chores to do because my aunt and uncle are coming to stay for a few days! YAY!**

**Now, read and review, and leave something nice for me to come back to. Flames will be used to roast Mary-Sues who fall for Peter. MUAHAHA. **


	59. Settling In

**From here on out, very unfortunately, this story will sound extremely Americanized—mostly because I have NO idea what boarding school in England is like, and so I'm using a little imagination. I happen to be American, so my imagination as far as country customs…well, I can only imagine so much. **

**Jesus loves you!**

**Pippin

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**Chapter 59, Settling in**

It was dark, and very dreary. The rain started and hit the window, plinking unmercifully. I sighed. Welcome back, Peter. World of dreary gray buildings, sums and latin, and England's rain.

---

"_And what world did we come from, I wonder," Susan muttered. "That life has deteriorated in my memory like an old dress." _

"_The only thing I remember is that we had war there, too," Edmund added. "But that wars here—wars here, compared to there, are almost happy." _

"_I don't remember even that," I offered. "I remember automobiles. But how loud and horrid they were! No life in them, no living, breathing animal beneath you, galloping over the horizon." _

"_I admit," Susan leaned back. "Life here is more than it could ever be, back There. How good it was of Aslan to pull us away." _

"_We probably would have died young and never be remembered," Lucy said quietly. "I remember the smells and the noise of a gray city. Here, it is always beautiful and we'll be remembered forever." _

"_To that I concur," Edmund agreed. "Had we stayed there, it would have meant only pain and suffering. It makes you wonder if Aslan had rescued us from Hell, or something very much like it."_

"_There were no trees and grass," sighed Lucy. "But brick and stone. How terrible we must have lived. I'm glad I've forgotten it!"_

_---_

"Aslan, wake me up from Hell now," I mumbled incoherently.

My roommate, William, peeked over the top bunk. I had forgotten he was up there. "Hell, Peter?"

"Or something very much like it," I finished the statement.

"What did you mean by Aslan?" he asked, tossing an apple at me from above.

I caught it and started munching. "Hmm?"

"Aslan means 'Lion' in Turkish, did you know that?" William continued.

"I suppose I did. That's probably why I said it."

"Well, why did you?"

"Do what?"

"Say Aslan?"

"I didn't."

"You just said you did."

"I was looking at that--" I said quickly, pointing to a tiny four by five painting pinned to the wall. It was a golden lion snuggled next to a lamb.

"Oh, that's supposed to be Jesus, you know," said William. "You don't mind that I pinned that up, did you?"

"Hardly. It's comforting."

"Oh, I suppose that's what you meant? Asking Jesus to obliterate boarding school?" he chuckled to himself, flopping back onto the bunk.

"I suppose," I sighed. Aslan and Jesus—I never really thought about it. I suppose that's who he was, really. I always thought God and Aslan were one and the same, but I guess the 'Emporer across the Sea' was truly God—in a sense, which was Aslan. I decided not to think about. Never would I understand the "Trinity", so called, but I was perfectly content with it existing. I'm merely human. I don't have to understand it to take comfort in it, of Jesus, Aslan, God, the like—it's just _there. _

"Did you bring a Bible?" asked William.

"No," I said.

"I've brought three, would you like one?"

"To keep or borrow?"

"Keep. You can read it every night."

"Alright," a hand came over the edge and handed down a worn, blue bible. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome," said William. "So where's your brother?"

"Second floor. Unfortunately with some of his old friends."

"Oh. That's not good."

"How do you know?"

"Well, Peter, I've got eyes, haven't I? They weren't up to no good last year. I didn't have to be in the same room to see their damage to younger kids and school property. Samuel kept me posted."

"Who's that?"

"My roommate from last year."

"Ah," conversation dwindled for a half hour or so. I read the bible for a little while, daydreamed of Narnia, and stared at the wall calculating how many hours till dinner.

A bell rang.

"Finally!" William burst out, leaping from the bunk. I followed him out and joined a small crowd of early students headed for the mess hall.

When we were settled at the tables—long, long tables—they said the blessing and distributed soup. William seemed disgusted.

"Where's Edmund?" I asked.

"I haven't seen him," said Henry and Mortimer chimed in.

"He asked me to save him a seat," added Frank. "He hasn't shown up, actually."

"It's only his second year back," I laughed. "Maybe he's lost. I'll go find him."

I excused myself and winded between tables, out the door, and into the rain.

-----

I finally arrived in the dorms and found Edmund's room easily. "Ed?" I called, knocking softly. Edmund was sitting on his bed, his back to the door. "Hey you. Coming to dinner?"

"I can't eat," Edmund said in a very funny voice.

"And why not?" I asked.

He turned around and faced me, grinning lopsidedly. His jaw was swollen and red. His lip was bleeding. He had a black eye.

"Hmm," I said. "Well. Uh…that's quite a shiner."

"Thank-you," he said, his mouth looking disgustedly crooked when he talked.

I sat on the bed next to him. "Who had the pleasure of fighting with you?"

"Thomas, Benjamin, and Roberto, of course."

"Your—ahem—old friends?"

"The very ones," Edmund returned a glass of water to the side of his face for coolness. "They're skipping dinner and sneaking over to the football field a few blocks away. They wanted me to come. I actually threatened to be a tattle tale. I was kidding, actually, but they didn't want to take any chances."

"Oh. Took a beating, didn't you, little brother?" I ruffled his hair affectionately.

"On the contrary!" Edmund scoffed. "You think I didn't fight with Witches and Hags for nothing? Why Peter! I've beat them all—all three of them, mind you! They've sneaked off now to _lick their wounds_."

"Oh, yes, because you are _so_ intimidating..." I teased.

Edmund held out a fist. "Shall I teach you what I taught them?"

"Later, brother," I went into the loo and found a rag, wetted it, and came back, handing it to him. "Let's get rid of the stormcloud look."

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**Hope you liked it! Read and review! If any of you have information about how English boarding schools work, please, let me know. I'm trying to modernize what I remember from "Jane Eyre" "Little Princess" and "Little Women". **


	60. Caught in the Act

**Today is a HISTORICAL DAY!

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**

**Reasons:**

**#1) This is chapter SIXTY in this story. Can you believe its so long??? Neither can I! When did I get all that patience to write all this? I'm honestly the most impatient person I know. **

**#2) My best friend "Buddy" is going to be a father within the next 24 hours. The sad thing is, he is only 16. Be sure to lift him up in your prayers—but here's the good news—since this hefty roadblock in his young life, he's back on track with Jesus. :-)**

**#3) We're back at school after the COOLEST snow days ever. Our little valley NEVER gets snow, and we just had bucket loads of it this week. It was heaven. **

**#4) Me and my best friends Bo and Mugwump wrote our entire Chemistry report during free class time. That's amazing right there. Call the newspapers!

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**

**Anyways, God Bless All Ya'lls, and have a fabulouso dayo!**

**Pip

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**

**Disclaimer: **

**Tolkien writeth, **

**Tolkien owneth, **

**even tho, **

**Tolkien deadeth. **

**God giveth,**

**God taketh,**

**God giveth LOTR**

**To Peter Jackson. **

**God giveth, **

**God taketh,**

**God taketh 'the Hobbit'**

**Back from Jackson.

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**

**PS: (which, by the way, The Hobbit (the movie) is due to come out in 2009! Jackson not asked to come back for directing. Stupid New Line Cinemas!)

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**Chapter 60, Caught in the Act**

The elderly professor peered at his pocketwatch, peered at us, then said in a thin, rasping voice, "Class is dismissed."

General chaos ensued—chairs were pushed back, paper collected, and the throng moved towards the exit out of the Science building. My next class was Shakespearean Literature—one of my least favorite classes. All we did was sit around and read different parts from his plays, and generally discussed what was happening. It was my most boring class.

"Peter," called one of the fellows from the sixth form. "Why don't you come along with us?"

"Hmm?" I asked, rather confused.

"We're going to skip class today and see about the fishing conditions over in the lake—wanna come?"

"Uh…no," I shrugged it off. What good manners get stuck with the King, stays with the king. Before they could try and convince me out of it, I managed to leave and headed for the Austen Theatre—the art and literature building dedicated to Jane Austen.

The campus was shaped like a U. I was in one branch, the Austen Theatre was in the other. In between them was a small patch of woods that was damp and shrub-filled, so not a lot of people went in. I decided to take the shortcut through the woods and have some time alone.

I trotted and swung my book bag over my shoulder, wishing I was on a horse galloping to class. I went inside the woods and picked up a stray stick and tap and shrubs out of the way.

I paused and glanced at the stick I had carelessly grabbed. It was rather broad, and strong, and nearly three feet long. It almost had the feel of a sword.

I had ten minutes till my next class.

I put my book bag down and swung my "sword" around, fighting invisible witches of snow. I played out my most fantastic blade moves, feeling freer than I had in the two months I'd been here.

For a little while I swung here and there, demonstrating my skills that I'd gained for eight-plus years in a world of armor and swordsmanship. I admit, it was a good feeling again! I felt like I'd gotten rid of a little bit of homesickness.

Knowing my time allotment was drawing to an end, with one last heave, I threw the stick and it plunged vertically into the ground, a perfect end to my moments of freedom.

And suddenly, someone burst out into applause.

I whirled around, turning red beyond belief, and noticing my Shakespearean Literature teacher, Miss James, clapping for me.

"That was amazing, Mr. Pevensie!" she laughed, clasping her hands together and looking simply delighted. "I did not know you had such talent! It's a pity we do not have fencing classes here!"

"I didn't mean for anyone to see me do anything like that…" my words simply faded off into embarrassment.

"Why hide it?" Miss James said gleefully. "It's splendid. Now hurry, you'll be late for my class!"

I grabbed my book bag off the ground and hurried to catch up with her. "You won't say anything, will you?" I pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Ah, secrets, have we, Mr. Pevensie?"

"Everyone has secrets, Miss James," I protested. "Why were you walking through the woods anyways?"

"I take that shortcut every day, I have to beat my students to my own class," she snickered. "Now, you've got young legs, why don't you rid yourself of some energy and run the rest of the way. I can't have you uneasy or twitching for action in my class today—we have a lot of reading to do."

"Alright," I sighed, picking up speed and soon leaving her behind.

I had a funny feeling and turned back, peering at her. She was motioning the president of the theatre/performing arts class and the Headmaster to walk with her, chattering animatedly. She kept pointing towards me. Oh no. What was that odd lady thinking of now?

----

My head was nodding.

"It's your turn, Peter," hissed Reginald.

"Uh, um, _Deny thy father and forget thy name," _I started.

"That is Juliet's part," said Miss James, hiding a smile. "Reginald is reading for Juliet. It's a pity this is not a co-ed school! You're reading for the Nurse."

A co-ed school? My cousin went to a co-ed school—and as far as I knew, it was the worst place to be. They called it the Experiment House—the name alone was enough to curl someone's hair.

"Right, I'm sorry," I tried to find my part. Where was it? I lost the spot…

I was saved by a tap on the door.

"Come in?" said Miss James. She brightened at the sight of the Headmaster and the president of the theatre/performing arts class, Mr. Shirley.

"Ah, class, some of our most beloved teachers and Headmaster have an announcement," she said, beaming. She shot a strange look at me.

"Hello, Shakespeareans," said Mr. Shirley. Something inside me was screaming 'Oh no!'.

"I have good news! Our creative writing program has created a play, a Shakespearean style play, and THIS class, along with my performing arts group, are going to be in it."

Well, that won't be too bad. A little teasing from the fellows, but nothing too serious.

"This is much bigger than you are thinking, however," Mr. Shirley continued. "We are combining forces with the Miss Windsor's School for Young Ladies to provide more actors for our performance. We're putting it on for the entire city."

On second thought…

"And what's more," Miss James said, smiling. "I am in charge of choosing our actors and actresses. We would have tryouts, but due to the suddenness of this stroke of genius, I'm going to choose the main characters and the extras will be for whoever's left." She looked at her favorite student, Reginald, and grinned. "Reginald, you'll play the Witch King in our performance."

Reginald beamed. He liked the antagonist roles.

"And our lead star, the 'hero prince'--called Wynn—will be played by none other than—Peter Pevensie."

Every chair scraped the floor as everyone whirled and stared at me, open-mouthed. My mouth dropped open.

"What? Me?" I nearly squeaked.

"No one else has fencing skills in this class, Peter," Miss James seemed to smile evilly. "They've planned a bit of a sword fight between the Witch King and Wynn over the love of the Princess Arianna. Reginald, you'll just have to play along."

Reginald looked insulted.

I could only sink lower in my seat. Me? Star in a theatre production in from of God and Country? I'm a lowly Narnian king—not an actor!

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**Hehe, I hoped you liked my little twist! READ AND REVIEW!!! If you do, I'll send mental cyber-cakes! Love to all!**


	61. Sword Practice

**Hey there everyone! **

**--so, did anyone notice I accidentally put a disclaimer for LOTR instead of Narnia at the beginning of the last chapter? I didn't notice till I reread it later. **

**--False labor. Buddy has a few more weeks to go before the baby is born, thank-you for your prayers! **

**--I'm glad you all liked my twist! This is my only story with major twists…my "Mary Sam" story has a few, but not as much because all my reviewers have the trilogy memorized. With this, I get to fill in all the blanks of a FULL year in the life of a British teenager before Caspian. Crazy, huh??? Oh, well, um, maybe not…lol…**

**Read and Review! God bless!**

**Pippin

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**Disclaimer: C.S.Lewis is a brilliant man who encouraged his fans to write their own stories about what they wanted in the Narnia gaps. But he owns all. I borrow.

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**Chapter 61, Sword Practice**

I stared at the script. And stared. And stared again.

"Having trouble?" asked Reginald, pushing his glasses farther up his nose.

"No, I," I started. "Um, well, I'm sort of curious of how to say this line."

"_Dearest, I'll look after…you?" _repeated Reginald like it was a question. "It is most simple!" He suddenly dropped to his knees, folded his hands, and shouted loftily, "OH, DEAREST, I'LL LOOK AFTER YOU!"

Kenneth walked in at that moment and saw Reginald on his knees, looking at me imploringly. He shook his head, backed out slowly, and skittered out.

"Now look what you've done," I muttered.

"I really ought to play Wynn," said Reginald loftily. "It's obvious you are fine with the sword, but not for acting."

Oh no, you didn't. I agree with him as far as MY ability, but there is nothing I'd like more than to prove him wrong.

"We'll see about that," I said icily. His acting wasn't much worse—shouting and too exaggerated.

I dropped to my knees, folded my hands (but kept them in my lap) and spoke humbly towards some invisible person.

"Dearest," I said in a choked, sincere voice, "I _will_ look after you." I pictured some sort of frightened She-Beaver. We always called the She-Beavers "dearest" back in Narnia. Maybe her dam had caught fire and she was afraid. I suppose I couldn't be THAT bad if I could just picture a scene from Narnia similar to whatever was in the play (it being medieval and all) and say it—not like Reginald does, but say it my own way.

"OH, Mr. Pevensie!" cried the voice of Miss James. "That was splendid. I think you'll do very well with us for this production."

"Um, thanks," I stood, embarrassed. Proving Reginald wrong was one thing. Being praised for "ability to act" seemed uncanny and strange.

---

"Right, left, right!" cried one of the authors, a pug-nosed sixth form boy by the name of Stephen. "Can't you fight with a sword?"

"Of course I can," I responded. "It's Reginald who seems to be having trouble."

Stephen adjusted a pair of glasses. "Oh, quite right."

"Reginald, _do_ try," pleaded Miss James. "The choreography _is_ really splendid."

Reginald brushed a sweaty lock of hair from his eyes. "uh huh…"

Splendid? A ten-year-old could do this sword fight. It had nothing. No twists, turns, extravagant wrist-turning, nothing.

"Try this," I offered, whirling in a circle, bringing the sword almost in a figure eight, and blocking Reginald's outstretched arm. For a moment I was a knight again. And… I accidentally knocked Reginald's sword from his hand.

It went flying offstage into some props. A few girls, recently arrived from the Ladies School to bring backdrops, screamed in fury.

"I beg pardon!" I called.

Reginald went and retrieved this sword.

"Well, you seem to know what your doing," said Stephen, very sarcastically, I might add. He thrust the script into my hands. "Why don't YOU tell us what we should do?"

Why does everyone assume I cannot do a single thing they ask of me? Sword fighting is my specialty. "I daresay I will," I said darkly.

----

Within the hour, Reginald got better. I realized I _was_ going to have to downsize the moves just a bit because of his inexperience. But rather than a boring parry here, parry there—we had ducks, jumps, twists, and better footwork. And Reginald was really getting the hang of it—barely. Not to brag, but he was _at least_ keeping up with me.

"Good!" I said. "Now try and cut my head off. I'll duck like this," here we demonstrated. "Great. Now I'll try and cut your ankles. Jump." He did.

"It's a shame these aren't heavier," I said fondly to myself, thinking of my own special sword from Narnia. "I'm used to much heavier action. Maybe if the blade wasn't so skinny, and the hilt actually made to protect the hand."

Suddenly I realized I was speaking out loud.

Reginald was staring at me spectacally. "Heavier action, huh?"

"I mean--" I started.

"Because Peter so often carries a sword to defeat evil goblins, don't you, Peter?" Reginald could barely contain his laughter.

"Not goblins," I tried to bite back my outburst—but out it came. "Idiots who can't understand sword use or proper--"

"This sword could do a lot of damage to your loud mouth," Reginald stepped menacingly towards me.

"You really must be daft," I shot back. "It's a wooden sword, Reginald!"

Miss James rushed up the stage that moment, clapping her hands. "Boys, boys!" she cried briskly. "Let us remember why we're all gathered here—to learn teamwork and theatre production. Not to kill each other. Now apologize."

"I beg your pardon," I said in my 'Wynn' voice, as I came to call it. "I was wrong to lose my temper. I forgive your rude mockery."

"Sorry," mumbled Reginald. So much for 'all the world being a stage'.

"Do you want to try again?" I said with some sarcasm. What was wrong with me today? I guess I am feeling weary of bookworms like Reginald bossing me around. They may know more a lot than me from reading books on every subject, but they don't seem to know anything outside of facts in history. It might be good for them to learn something else—like manners, or feelings, or any thought of friendships.

"No thanks," said Reginald, turning abruptly and leaving.

I sighed. "Practice must be over, then," I automatically went to sheath my sword and dropped it in the process. "Whoops," I gasped, peering around to see if anyone saw. Everyone was mostly backstage, moved out of the way in case there were more flying swords. Miss James was talking somewhere in the thousands of empty seat rows to another official. I was practically alone.

I went to the right side of the stage to put my sword in the bag of "weapons". Noticing a stack of stray papers nearby, I peered at them as I knelt and put my sword in the burgundy bag.

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**LIST**

_PERFORMED BY: "PERFORMING ARTS CLAS" AND "SHAKESPEARE STUDY CLASS" _

AUTHOR: TIMOTHY BURNS

—WYNN— PETER PEVENSIE

—WITCH KING— REGINALD FITSHUGH

—PRINCESS ARIANA— RACHEL GEROLD

—KASTEY, THE WITCH KINGS GENERAL— ROBERTO SCOTT

—PRINCE QUENTIN— GILBERT TOWNSEND

—STABLE BOY— GEORGE JACKSON

—CAPTIAN OF THE GUARD— PETER GILBRETH

—SERVANT GIRL— ELIZABETH RUTHERFORD

I gasped and dropped the paper. Leyli was coming??

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Some of you guessed this little surprise! Hope you enjoy! READ AND REVIEW!**


	62. The Return of Leyli

**Thank you for all the reviews! You are all so kind! Without you, this story would NEVER have gotten as far as it did. ;-) (which is pretty darn far…I can't figure out how to end this story. It's the Never Ending Story!!!!) bursts out laughing really loudly realizes no one is laughing. Er, well, anyways….**

**This chapter is going to be interesting. Peter has been acting like superman lately, so I've decided to give him a dose of the flu. My sister gets it almost every winter, so why not Peter? **

**Oh, right, and Leyli is comin' back, folks!

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**Chapter 62, The Return of Leyli**

I glanced at the clock. Three seventeen. I'd been watching the minute hand for eleven minutes. I couldn't sleep.

I felt ashamed at myself for arguing with Reginald. It was immature, and really, not necessary. I felt myself becoming a full-fledged "London kid" who makes mistakes and has a temper. I lost my temper in Narnia. Now it was coming back. I didn't want it.

I rolled over. Then rolled over again. We were going to have a rehearsal for the first time with the girls from the Boarding School.

It would have been typical of Murphey's law for Leyli to be the princess, whom I'd have to pretend to be in love with and possibly kiss. I shuddered. Thank goodness, she is playing the servant girl. I can pretend to be infatuated with someone I don't know. If I can keep anything from happening that may ignite leftover feelings for me from Leyli, I would. She'll have to stand on stage and watch me flirt with another. Will that make her laugh because of its ridiculousness, or would she wish it were her?

I knew I was too worried too sleep. I hadn't even noticed I closed my eyes. I hadn't written in my journal in weeks. I was rambling.

I glanced at the clock again. Whew! It felt like I never slept. It read six forty. Time to get up and trudge around for school. I sneezed multiple times for some odd reason.

By the end of breakfast, my head was throbbing, and my hankies were useless against the headcold that I contrived from lack of sleep, and whatever it is that make these devilish things appear at random.

----

"Peter! May I inquire what has your attention?"

My nose was so…unusable I could barely answer. "Nubthing. Jusht thinkhing."

"Well, let's think about the lecture I'm delivering, if you please?"

"Yes'mp."

Within minutes, I had fallen asleep on my open book. I couldn't help it! People really pity the young ones when they are sick, but if you happen to be older than fourteen, you're out of the loop. No special treatment for you.

"Peter, may I see you after class?"

One sneeze.

"I'll take that as a yes. The rest of you are dismissed."

I gathered my things, put them in my shoulder bag, and dragged my feet to the front desk.

"I think I'll write you a paper excusing you from classes from the rest of the day," the professor said kindly, shaking her head at me. "Deliver this to the Headmaster, Peter, and you'll be excused. But be sure to make it for the rehearsal, Miss James IS counting on you."

"Huhuh."

"Poor dear. You look terrible."

"Thagyou." I took the paper and made my way outside. Where might the headmaster be as this hour? Office? Auditorium? What if he died sometime and I didn't know it? Then I'd have to go back to class. What was I thinking??? I really did need some sleep.

"I was thinking my costume should be more dirty. I mean, really! I know what it's like to be pushed around and do things you don't want to do. It'd look better if I'd rolled about in the dirt, not stepped from a moving picture."

Leyli's voice.

I threw myself against the wall, holding completely still. I tried to hold my breath but couldn't. What should I say? We'd been friends, or, at least I hoped so, but nonetheless—it might be awkward. Especially if she didn't know I was here.

"Well, Elizabeth, if that's what you'd like, then go ahead. I'm just the overseer; I am no professional in the realms of the theatre."

The headmaster! Blast it, they were engaged in a conversation about the production. I wanted to give him the note and crawl away to my den and sleep for a hundred years.

"I've been reading over the script," said Elizabeth Leyli.

How come she got a script? I'm playing the lead and I still don't have my own copy of the script. I keep using Reginald's, and we all know he's _so_ happy to share.

"And I'm not too sure about my part," she continued, sounding passionate about her performance. "The servant girl remains mostly anonymous to Wynn. But is she there to help when he finds out that the Princess was in league with the Witch King the entire time? And after Wynn realizes he loves the servant girl, isn't showing his lack of sincerity by forgetting the princess completely in a matter of seconds? And I think that the fact they kiss right away is also too sudden."

I gasped and covered my face. There is NO WAY I am kissing her! I refuse! I'll get pneumonia, and then Reginald can take my place.

"Why don't you discuss this with the script manager?"

"I tried! They said if I wanted changes, I'd have make the Headmaster force them. Well, I'm here to see if you'll force them."

"Oh, hardly! They know what they're doing. Just try to play along with it. That's a good girl. I'll, uh, be seeing you!" the headmaster seemed eager to leave her. He's not used to dealing with female students. As am I.

The Headmaster rounded the corner and bumped into me. "Oh, beg pardon," he said, hastily moving away.

Elizabeth was silent. She knew that I was hiding, obviously, because she saw the Headmaster bump into me.

"Well? Are you coming out from back there?" said her voice finally, sounding annoyed.

I tried to stay quiet. Maybe she'd forget there was someone crammed between a bush and the wall listening in to her conversation.

"Perhaps you're the unlucky fellow playing Wynn and you are too embarrassed to see me," she said kindly. "Well, that's alright. I won't bite. We can get around all that silly romantic stuff and fake it out, now, can't we?"

Silence.

"Or perhaps no one is there and I'm talking to myself!" Elizabeth said exasperatingly. "There you go, Leyli, doing it again. You're crazy imagination is seeing things behind every corner!"

I sneezed. Please don't see me. Please don't see me.

"Alright, fine, I'm doing being patient," she stumbled around the corner. She saw me. "What in the blazes are you doing? Trying to sneak around back, are we?"

I had been slowly tiptoeing away. I looked ridiculous. I finally turned around and faced her. "Hullo."

Leyli stopped. She looked very Leyli-ish. She had blonde hair again—must be the lack of living in a well. Her eyes seemed to sparkle green in…wrath, perhaps?

"Well," she said curtly. "If it isn't Peter Pevensie."

"Thabs meh name," I tried to force a laugh. It sound like a honk and a wheeze.

"Shy to see me again?" she laughed. "We parted on good terms, remember?"

"Uhuh," I said. "But, I wusn't playging Wynn then."

"You're Wynn??"

"Huhuh."

Leyli looked evil and happy all at once. "Well, then you'll have to get over it," she said, laughingly. "For once, the king is the one feeling awkward and out of place, like the misplaced naiad once always felt. I've discovered I love theatre, it's my little place in this big, wide world." She stepped up close to my face. "So I am going to enjoy every single line, cue, place, kiss, and fight in this play. You can choose to enjoy it if you want."

"Gwe'll see!" I mumbled. "Naiads!"

Leyli touched my arm lightly and scampered away. "Good to see you again, Your Majesty."

"Ig's Peder!" I called after her irritably. "Jusht Peder!"

I sat down right in the dirt and sighed. It went worst than I expected, but for the most part, I knew she was teasing me. Taunting me to act kingly again and get over my acting shortcomings. Well, I'd show her. I'd be the best co-actor she'd ever have. And then she'll have nothing to tease or taunt me with. I can tease HER for liking it too much. Ha. So there.

---

It was raining. Why was it raining? I blinked and found myself sitting against the wall still. It must have been at least an hour later. Blast it, I fell asleep right where I sat. Now I _would_ get pneumonia and Reginald _would_ get the part, and things would be very strange between me and Leyli, very strange indeed.

I got up and stumbled around, looking for the headmaster. I couldn't find him. I searched all over campus in the wet, cold, rain. Not fair. Why me? Why did I forget to give him the paper right after he bumped into me?

I gave up after twenty minutes. Classes were out for the day anyways. I'd give it to him tomorrow morning and tell him I was too sick to look for him. I found my room and snuck inside, searching for my roommates. The loo separated the two sides of the room, and it sounded like everyone was playing a game of cards or something in the other side. I managed to get into a pair of dry clothes and fell into bed, shivering. I didn't want to get sick, it's too annoying. Now everyone WOULD pamper me. I don't like getting pampered. I forgot that earlier.

---

I woke up another two hours later with a glass of water by my bed, a bucket, and a box of tissues for my pleasure.

"Why is there a bucket here?" I muttered nearly incoherently. I couldn't get my voice to raise it's volume for some reason. My stomach heaved and I rolled over and threw up into it.

"That would be why," said my roommate, perched on the bunk above. "You're the one that asked me to get it."

"Everything is fuzzy," I said when I finished. I drank some water.

"Um…okay…" said William incredulously.

I felt very hot and kicked off the covers. "William?"

"Yeeeees?"

"I have influenza."

"Yes, I can see that. The headmaster is bringing you some meds in a little while."

"Oh, yay," I replied, feeling like ice and pulling the covers back up and over my head. So this is what happens when you fall asleep in the rain. Nothing heroic.

----

"You talked a lot in your sleep last night," William peeked over the edge of the bed.

"I didn't feel like I slept at all," I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. "What did I say?"

"Oh nothing," William said in a teasing voice. "But I must ask you this—who's Elizabeth?"

He ducked to avoid my flying pillow. "I—I—don't know any Elizabeth! You're making it up!" I lied.

"And what about the Wicked Witch?" laughed William, hopping off the bed and returning my pillow to me. "Seems that she made it snow, and you were complaining that it was much too cold and Edmund drank all her hot cocoa."

He ducked a second time. My pillow knocked a few books of the shelf. He retrieved it, enjoying this immensely, and handed it back. I did not find it amusing at all.

"Oh, and another thing," William said, sobering. "Someone must have tried to kill you or something—you yelled at someone to 'drop their sword' and fell silent for awhile."

"Maybe I was picturing Reginald's defeat in the play," I said quickly.

"Right," said William. "Go back to sleep. I hate to go to school today though, I don't want to miss any more interesting secrets."

"You won't. You never heard any in the first place."

"So it is no secret that you have a secret love named Elizabeth? Good, I'll spread the word!"

This time, my pillow hit him square in the face.

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**This is the longest chapter I've had in awhile! Please read! And for GOODNESS SAKE, REVIEW! If you don't... a disaster beyond your wildest imagination will occur! (actually, a ginourmous chandelier will appear from the sky, knock you down, and light your surroundings on fire. Ha!)**


	63. My First Kiss

**Hey everyone, thanks for the fabulous reviews! Sorry for such a long wait!**

**God bless!**

**Happy St. Patrick's Day!**

**--Pip

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**Chapter 63, My First Kiss**

"Well, good evening, Master Pevensie!" said the plays coordinator, Miss Carson, looking surprised at my arrival for the dress rehearsal. "I am glad to see you are well."

"Thank-you," I said, still feeling achy and somewhat tired, but for the most part, quite eager to begin the dress rehearsal and get it over with. I refused to kiss Leyli. I swear if I have to drop out or break my leg or something, I won't kiss her. They can't make me.

I sneezed.

"God bless you," said several voices.

I shrugged out of my coat and met most of the cast on stage, where last-minute preparations were made.

"We'll be going over the scene between Wynn and the servant girl, Mary-Rose," announced some random person offstage. "From the top, please!"

I'd worked on my lines and knew most of them by heart. But what about that kiss…

Leyli passed by me, glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. An evil grin flecked her face, and she hissed, "Let's see what you can do, King."

That's it! I'd sentence her to a thousand years of service! BAH!

Suddenly I had an idea. She is annoyed by me as much as I am annoyed by her. She doesn't want me to kiss her. I know her better than that. She is expecting me to fight it and plant one on her cheek or something—she is expecting ME to fall short, doing something other than my best, because I'm scared. She'd said she'd enjoy it—but I know exactly what she WILL be doing. She'll think about how much she likes me then go wipe a clean rag across her lips to get the feeling off.

Well, I'll show her.

She'll never know what hit her.

I smiled. It may be a kiss, but for me, it will feel like sweet revenge.

"Wynn?" asked Leyli carefully, creeping across the stage. She looked like a green sponge of fluid, the way she moved. Naiads!

"Hmm…yes, miss—Mary Rose, isn't it?" I asked, trying to convince myself she was the character she was playing.

"Yes, sir," she said, gesturing to the makeshift box. "You ought to sit down. I have something to tell you."

I sat.

Another section of stage lighted up, and actors moved into place, as Leyli narrated.

"Sir, I came to tell you something I wish I'd never seen."

The Princess, played by Georgiana Ashcroft, paced back and forth on the other side.

"The Princess, sir, was near where I was working on cleaning the mantel of her ladyships' chamber. She was pacing, sir, as if waiting for someone."

"Go on," I prompted, adopting a dreamy look into my eyes. I liked the princess—I was going to marry her—in the story, that is.

"A man came to see her, sir, and his countenance—was unagreeable, you might say, sir. He seemed most impatient. His eyes were cruel. He frightened me, sir."

"A man came to see her?" I sounded suspicious and a little upset.

"Not just a man, sir," Leyli bent down, and placed a shy hand onto mine. "It was the Witch King!"

Reginald was now making motions as if talking with the Princess.

"WHAT?" I leapt to my feet, clutching my sword handle. It wasn't heavy enough—it didn't even feel like I had one there.

"I am so, so sorry, sir," Leyli stayed on the floor. "They are arranging to try and kill you. The Princess is in league with him—I saw it with my own eyes! They've agreed to have poison put in your dinner tonight!"

"Why should I believe you?" I said, wondering if I'd possibly said those words before. Long, long ago, when Leyli was the one in league with certain persons…

Leyli was thinking the same thing, I knew it. She looked sad. "Because…" her face fell. She looked like the same Elizabeth that was my neighbor in London right when she arrived—when we had more in common—when it seemed all our troubles were over.

Someone whispered her next line to her.

"I'll prove it to you!" she said grimly. She rang my bell, which meant my "dinner" was to be brought it.

Kenneth walked in—he'd forgotten his costume—bearing a tray sheepishly. I laughed a little. He laughed a little too, plunking the tray down and disappearing quickly.

I pretended to touch the food tentatively and took a tiny bite. I 'spat' it back out. "You are right. It IS poisoned." I turned to Leyli. "Why did you do this?"

Leyli got down on both knees—something which wasn't in the script. "Because, Sir Wynn," she said, bitterly, quietly. "I've long watched you among your companions and have seen you jousting and…I feel as if you are the most honorable, gracious knight I have ever seen. I am only a servant girl, but sometimes, I've longed for—what I mean to say, sir—I wish I could have been that person to give you the winners roses, the jousting crown…or the princess kiss." She blushed. How did she do that on command???? Oh, on the other hand, I was correct—she was embarrassed!

"I'm sorry, sir, I shouldn't have said that," she scrambled to her feet.

I placed a hand on either shoulder gently. Here goes—my first kiss ever. Mum would be horrified. Susan would faint. Edmund would laugh. Lucy would…well, I don't know about Lucy. Oh goodness! If I'm going to give her a kiss, I'm going to kiss her right!

"Dear Mary-Rose," I said. "I've long seen you, staying in the shadows, listening and doing everyone's bidding. I've always wished you were there to speak and be heard, like the others, so that I could one day call you my friend. You've saved my life—I am glad to say it now. I can…no longer give the Princess a kiss for fear she'll only drive a dagger into me upon parting. I'd…much rather give it to you."

Leyli's shoulders tensed. Her eyes were fiery. She turned her face away so that I could plant one on her cheek.

Oh no you don't…

I shifted so that I faced her again. I squeezed my eyes shut and…

I kissed her full on.

I planted one on her! Whoah…

No fireworks or anything, but definite embarrassment and a feeling a victory, actually. I got the naiad. Ha ha!

Leyli jerked back in surprise. "Peter Pevensie!" she shrieked.

I grinned. "Well?"

"You," she spluttered. "You, I, but, you…"

"Gotcha! Let's move on to the next scene, shall we?" I moved to my place for the next part, not even bothering to hear her splutters.

I had my first kiss, it was rather nice, and I'd finally embaressed the naiad, rather than the other way around.

Ha!

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**READ AND REVIEW!!!!**


	64. Performance

**Hey everyone! **

**For the most part, most of you liked the kiss! That's good! I know some of you were disappointed and did not think it was right. Well, I agree, but Peter isn't perfect and I hate portraying him like a problem-free, manner-perfect boy. He's a boy with the same emotions, problems, and mistakes like anyone else. Therefore, he gave her a kiss for the wrong reasons. But don't worry, he's still maturing. **

**Pippin

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**

**Chapter 64, Performance**

Tonight was the big night! I felt nervous and sweaty in anticipation, wondering how badly I was going to do. The last few rehearsals had gone rather well—only a few mistakes here and there, and Leyli…Elizabeth…whatever her name is…barely spoke to me, but whenever she did, she seemed a little nicer. She had stopped taunting me, at least. And for the last two main rehearsals, I kissed her on the cheek like she wanted, and she actually smiled. I almost regretted giving away my first kiss for something as silly as this. If I had waited long enough, I might not have had to break the ice with a stage kiss. But still…

I was finishing with my costume, normal clothing I might have worn in Narnia (our material was much higher quality, though) and putting on the paper armor pieces. Someone knocked at the door.

"Pete, you've got a letter, would you like to look at it before you go?"

"Absolutely," I opened the door and accepted the letter from William. He stared at me, grinning.

"Funny clothes."

"It's a funny play."

"Really?"

"Well, it's not supposed to be a comedy, but I find it amusing."

William bowed humbly, and closed the door again. I barely noticed but then realized that he had been making fun of me. No one knew here that I was used to the bowing. I laughed and opened the letter.

_Dear Peter,_

_This is hard for me to write. Your father has been reported wounded and stationed somewhere in France. He is alive, but he cannot fight anymore. They are sending him home, Peter! Home to me, and you, and the rest. When you come back from your schooling, both of your parents will be there with open arms. But remember him in your prayers! His leg was brutally torn up by a shelling and gives him excruciating pain. I am happy he is coming, but it saddens me to think of him alone and hurting. _

_In these circumstances, my sweetheart, I cannot come to see the play. I am so, terribly sorry. The Red Cross has called me in for a special session, a platoon of injured soldiers are coming in for care and will be gone by morning. Please understand, dear. Your Father may be among them—they did not tell me when he was getting back to London. I wanted to see the play, I really did. Please forgive my absence and tell Edmund of your father. _

_I love you and always will,_

_Mum_

"Peter!" a voice cut through my thoughts. "Come on, you old slowcoach, you are going to be late!"

I wiped my face. Ever since that dratted day when Edmund nearly died in Narnia, I cried at the littlest thing—sad or happy. It was most annoying and felt most unmanly. I hated it.

"Coming," I choked, thrusting the letter in my pocket and leaving the bedroom.

----

The auditorium was packed full to the brim! I felt my knees quail and my eyes water as the stage lights turned up. I took a deep breath, and began reciting my lines—they sounded more emotional than needed—some of the other actors exchanged glances with each other, probably wondering if I was out of my mind.

The first act passed without much mishap. I was 'invited' by the foreign princess to her castle for a tournament. Her father, the king, had always been enemies with our kingdom, and tried to coat the invitation to sound like a peace treaty. If this were really me, I would have known better. By the end of act two, I was in love with the princess, and the servants were beginning to hear rumors of the witch king. Supposedly, he was in league with someone in the castle, and the princess was on the search to find out who it was. I remained in love with that silly princess.

By act three, I was in agony. It was hot, hot, hot up on stage. We'd never practiced with the orchestra before—in fact, we did not even know we were going to have music backup—playing Mozart and Beethoven and the like for different parts. When someone began to say something extremely important, ominous music began playing, and everyone glanced around nervously. Sometimes the music was too loud and we had to shout out lines louder than normal stage-speaking. I was sweating like no other and act four wasn't even around yet.

Act four arrived sooner than later, actually. Leyli arrived on stage and repeated the same scene we'd rehearsed earlier.

"…Poison, in your drink!" she was stating.

"Why should I believe you?" I said dryly. All I could think of was Dad. He was actually going home! But for reasons we would rather not have! I hadn't seen him in…counting Narnia years…almost twelve years? Eight? Fifteen? I could remember. I could barely remember his face. I'd grown up in a foreign world and come back and grown up some more without him. I'd lived an adult life in Narnia without him.

I realized it was my turn. "Your right," I burst. "It IS poisoned!" suddenly I realized I'd forgotten to actually taste-test the food. "I think," I added hastily. I took a tiny bit and nibbled on it, then spit. "Yes, it is as you thought." Whew. I saved it.

"Why did you do this?" I asked.

Leyli got down on her knees again. That naiad. It still, and never was, in the script.

"Because, Sir Wynn," she said, bitterly, quietly. "I've known you long. I know what kind of person you are. You are gracious, kind, strong, and brave. You're everything I've ever wanted to be."

She changed the entire script. This was not planned.

"You are the rightful King in every aspect. You've brushed me aside before, but I can forgive you—everyone is annoying and stupid like you sometimes."

The audience chuckled.

"I know I am only an insignificant girl, but I've longed for—what I mean to say, sir—I wish I could have been that special person. The one that you've held hands with, the one that you've received the winners crown from, the one who actually deserves to be kissed by you."

Okay. So this is how she felt. Or…does she? I am so confused…is she forgetting her lines and ad-libbing, or is she serious?

She stood. "I'm sorry. I should not have said that."

"Dear Mary-Rose," I said, putting a hand on either shoulder. "I knew that you felt this way…I long tried to ignore it, not knowing how to act about you. You stayed behind in the shadows, I tried to ignore you there, but I know I can't. I've always wanted to be your friend! I always have! You've saved my life—" I remembered the wolves. The cave. The escape. Kanna. The Battle…

"You've saved my life in more times than this. I appreciate you more than you know. I shan't kiss the princess—she might decide to stab me then and there."

The audience laughed at my ironic tone.

"Would you mind if I kissed you?"

Leyli inclined her face. "Please."

The audience laughed again. Alright, maybe it is amusing.

I kissed her cheek.

The curtain closed, and everyone began scrambling about under the roar of applause to ready for the very last scene.

The last scene was rather predictable in my opinion. The Princess invited me to a banquet, during that time, she pretended to receive news that the castle was under siege. She and her handmaidens left the room, leaving me 'locked' inside.

Reginald entered the room, looking pleased with himself. The costume looked freakishly like black armor that pirates used in the Eastern Sea.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Sir Wynn? The bold and gracious kindly knight?" he said mockingly. "Splendid we are here together! Now I shall have the pleasure of killing you."

We drew our wooden swords and began our rather stylized fight (Reginald still wasn't good enough to fully fight like I could). I went up, he went over, block, circle, repeat from other end. Boring, in my opinion. He was about to go left, I was going to block, then he was going to jump on the table and swing wide left, missing me.

We followed those steps. He jumped up on the table. He skipped the swing left that he was supposed to do and hit me—hard—on the head.

I fell on the floor and put a hand to the back of my head. Did he do it on purpose?

We jumped back and continued the rest of the fight, till the end when he had already disarmed me and everyone though I was about to die. Then he backed up against the wall and I flicked a 'knife' from my pocket and finished him off. Then the conclusion sped along splendidly—I kissed Leyli again on the cheek—the princess disappeared—all lived happily ever after.

The curtains closed. The audience applauded and hooted and hollered and stamped. Well, they must have liked it, I guess.

I rubbed the back of my head and went to Reginald.

"What were you doing?" I shouted.

"Mere accident," he turned abruptly and went to the end of the line.

We lined up again and bowed for the curtain call.

It was finally over!

Again I thought of Dad. I needed to find Edmund and talk to him immediately. I didn't care if school wasn't over.

I wanted to go home and see my Father.

"What's wrong?" Leyli hissed out of the side of her mouth.

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?" I said. "I have to leave soon. A little family emergency, you might say."

"Oh," she said sadly. "Well, I hope everything works out."

"Hey, Leyli," I said, forgetting to use Elizabeth in public like she asked. "Thank-you. You were a jolly good sport. I owe you one."

"Thank-you," she replied sincerely. I squeezed her hand and fled the stage and its annoying, bright lights.

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**Well, everyone, hope you liked! READ AND REVIEW or I shan't write anymore!**


	65. Ed, Let's Go Home

**OMG! I'm sorry for the long wait! Can you believe it's SIXTY-FIVE darn chapters? I'm exhausting myself lol. And I know this story is kind of…well…drawing to a close. **

**(Don't kill me!) I promise, I think I will make it to seventy chapters before I make my baby epic close. So there's roughly five chapters left so…review, review, review! **

**And then Prince Caspian (the movie) will come out…and…**

**Then there will be a sequel. So keep on the look out next year when this one is done. **

**Anyways, love to all,**

**God Bless,**

**Pippin**

**PS: this chapter is EXTREMELY SHORT! SORRY!

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**Chapter 65 **

**Ed, Let's Go Home.**

Making my way through the crowds was difficult. People jostled against me, wishing me congratulations of my performance, etc, etc. Parents gushed over our apparent talent. I struggled past them, trying to be polite, but looking for Edmund all the while. I was almost to the exit thinking he had probably departed, when I spotted him talking with a few of his friends.

"EDMUND!" I shouted, nearly tripping over another group of crying mothers.

Edmund whirled around, a grin on his pale features. "There's the star! Have you found Mum yet?"

"Oh, stuff and nonsense," I said, trying to laugh. I gripped Edmund's arm. "You will excuse us, please?"

"Oh, sure," replied the two other boys.

I pulled Edmund out from the row of seats and out the door into the cool, night air. A single lamp over the path illuminated Edmund's slightly apprehensive face.

"Ed, Dad's been hurt," I said, trembling.

"No…" Edmund clapped a hand over his mouth. He was silent for a moment. "Is it bad?"

"I…" I couldn't remember where I left her letter. "I don't think…no…it's not life threatening."

"So Mum is not here," Edmund finished sadly.

"She found out last week, I think," I affirmed. "The letter arrived in the late post."

"What are we going to do?" Edmund began pacing back and forth. "We haven't seen Dad for…almost ten years, right?"

"I can't recollect the years."

"And now he's hurt!" Edmund sat on the pavement.

"He's being sent home," I said quickly. "So that Mum can take care of him at home."

"Well, at least there's SOME good news," Edmund said sourly. He paused, taking a deep intake of breath. "You did fabulous in the play."

"Thank-you," I replied sincerely.

"Leyli made her end speech very…fitting."

"I felt that way too," I watched the dark blue sky with some content. Some things were right in this world. The expanse was the prettiest color I had seen since a Narnian sunset. The play was over. Edmund and I are safe—living in Narnia certainly made us appreciate that every second—and Dad was going home. Why not us?

"Ed," I said, bending down at eye level. "Let's go home."

"Let's WHAT?" Edmund erupted.

"Let's go home! We have a three-day-holiday! We can catch a train to London, and come back Sunday."

"The train fee?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Mum will be furious."

"We'd get to see Dad."

"The Headmaster will be most upset."

"Arguing is futile," I grinned. "Let's do something impulsive for once in our lives!" I laughed ironically.

Edmund soon joined in. "I guess it is settled then…"

I gave him a hand up, saying, "I command it." and he smiled in return.

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**Sorry so short! REVIEWS REVIEWS REVIEWS!**

**PS: Recheck chapter 13, the battle. I revised it and reposted it. Or, if you want to get a bigger deal with a little more heart, emotion, intensity, etc—you might want check my LARGE one-shot, "For Narnia, and for Aslan". It's the same chapters from THIS story, but written as a battle-short-story but it is MUCH more beefy than your normal one-shot. PLEASE LOOK INTO IT! It only has four reviews…sniff… **


	66. Of Crying and Confessions

**IM SORRY for making you wait so long for this update. I've neglected my reviewers who have been so dedicated since June 29****th 2006. I hope you enjoy this chapter!!!!!!**

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**Authors warning: MAJOR DRAMA, a gaurunteed tear-jerker or eye-misting. **

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**Chapter 66, **

**Of Crying and Confessions**

It was pouring down rain. It wasn't a light, gray rain that patters pleasantly against the window panes and waters the gardens. It was a black, heavy rain, unforgivably cold and thick.

And Edmund and I had the pleasure of standing in it outside our own door, trying to work up the nerve to walk inside and face our parents. It'd been years upon years since we'd seen our father. I could barely remember what he looked like—the image of him sitting on my Mum's dresser was the only thing I knew.

"Come on, Ed…" I tried to sound cheerful. "We're not facing dragons, are we?"

"We most certainly are not."

"And we're not facing Hags?"

"Not that either."

"Or goblins?" I tried again.

"PETER!" Edmund exclaimed. "Please don't bother. I'm waiting for you—you are the one holding the house key."

I glanced at my hand. "So I am." Grimacing, I plunged the key in its hole, turned the knob, and Edmund and I stepped inside.

"Good Lord!" Mother was standing just inside the hall, handing a coat and hat to Dr. Hoskins.

"Hullo," Edmund said sheepishly.

"Tell me I'm seeing things!" Mum shoved the coat into the Doctor's hands, her eyes so wide they appeared to be popping out.

"Helen, you are certainly NOT seeing things!" Dr. Hoskins's large belly jiggled with holding back laughter. "Aren't you boys supposed to be in school?"

"We're on a three day holiday," I explained, setting my suitcase down slowly, fearing the action would cause some sort of explosion. "Edmund and I decided to visit Dad."

"No doubt bringing a debt for the train ticket?" Mum asked, pained.

"I'm not as full of idiocy as to bring a receipt for you to deal with," I exclaimed, "I paid the fare with my own money."

"Uh, I will return this evening, Helen, as usual," Mr. Hoskins interjected quickly, his face red. "Good to see you boys."

Mother opened the door for Mr. Hoskins. He tipped his hat, gave us a helpless glance, and fled.

The door was promptly slammed behind him. Mum turned to face us—pale and anguished—and pointed up the stairs.

"He's up there," she said curtly, staring unseeingly at us.

Edmund headed right up the stairs.

"Thank-you Mum," I whispered, leaning forward quickly and kissing her cheek.

She brushed me aside. "Go upstairs. I refuse to speak to both of you now for fear I'll say something too unkind—something I may regret. When I think of something to say, you will both CERTAINLY hear it."

"Yes, Mother," I said seriously. When she turned for the kitchen, and had nothing more to say, I lunged for the rail and launched myself up the stairs, taking two at a time.

---

I arrived at the bedroom door just as Edmund passed inside.

"Dad?" Edmund was saying.

Silence.

"Dad, it's me, Edmund," he whispered.

A hoarse voice I didn't recognize sounded. "Oh! Oh my boy…my Edmund! You…you're here!"

I peered in a crack in the door. Edmund stood just in front of it, blocking my view of my father.

"Dad, I…I have something to say." Edmund said, his voice quivering with tears. He rushed forward and dropped to his knees, alongside the bed.

I could see Dad then. He was pale—and suddenly, his voice and his face were engraved in my memory again. Dark hair, Susan's nose, my eyes, and Lucy's disposition. Everything I'd ever forgotten flooded back in such ferocity I gasped and, leaning against the war, breathed heavily.

"What do you want to say?" Dad asked kindly, making an obvious effort to speak and not show any pain.

"Dad, I have been a horrible son!" Edmund said hoarsely.

"Oh, Ed…"

"Let me finish, Dad, please," Edmund's voice broke, but he quickly mastered himself again. "I have been the most horrible son in the whole world. I've tried to kill my family."

Dad gasped.

"Not literally murder them, I mean," Edmund's voice came in a rush. "While we were away in the country, I did every little thing possible to hurt them emotionally, and one day—I went too far—and I could have easily killed all three of them with my stupidity. I was horrible, Dad, horrible! And…the day you left, you asked me to keep you in my prayers. I promised you I would. And you know what? I never did! I never prayed for you because I was ashamed to speak to the one that knew everything I was thinking. I pretended I loved you, Dad, but I hated you. I hated Mum and Peter and Susan and little Lou too. If I loved you like a son should I'd be doing what you said and being a better person. But I despised anything good. I…"

Edmund's words had gushed forth and created such an avalanche of emotion and hurt that he finally stopped, crying softly, clutching Dad's hand as if it were the last link to freedom from his past.

I backed away from the door and slumped to the floor, folding my arms and resting my head against my knees. My head hurt with it all. What we had been through. What happened to Edmund. It all seemed endless.

"Dad," Edmund said brokenly, "Dad, I just want to say I'm sorry. I am so, so, so sorry. I've earned your hate and wish that I'd just disappear and leave you alone. It makes me almost wish you could tell me you hated me—so that I'd get no less than I deserve."

He'd seriously been holding all this back? That's so long for a young boy to hold such guilt. The small shadow I'd seen in his eyes—I thought they were brief memories of the witch or some torture he'd undergone—not this overwhelming sense of…well…I didn't rightly know what the sense was.

Dad had sat up with great effort, and pulled Edmund into his arms, crying alongside him.

"I never listened to Mum!" Edmund was still confessing, releasing every tiny burden he'd even felt. "I teased Lucy. I told the wi—the professor—that I thought Peter was unintelligent. I hated anyone I met even if they were as cute as a beaver. I yelled at God for making war and making you go. I…"

Dad hushed him. "Please, Edmund. I can't take it anymore. You're breaking my heart. If only I could have had it all in your stead."

Aslan's image, having arose from the dead, flashed before my eyes.

"He already did it in my stead," Edmund cried.

Dad didn't ask any questions. He pulled back and moved Edmund's hair from his eyes. "I forgive you, Edmund. And I only love you more than ever. And…I can't think of any more to say. I wish I could have been here. I wasn't a very good father…"

"Now don't you start too," Edmund said quickly, perfectly serious.

Dad smiled through his tears. Edmund choked on laughter. Dread and despair seemed to evaporate from his face, even though I'd no knowledge of its presence. Relief stole inside, and took the place of guilt in the shadow behind his eyes.

Suddenly I realized that Mum was there—and lowering herself beside me, leaning against the wall. Mum was a very proper person, and rarely ever sat on the floor.

"Hi," I said weakly, my tearful voice betraying the scene in the bedroom.

"Hullo," Mum brushed a tear off my face. She was crying too—she had heard Edmund's speech. "You should go in and see Dad."

My chest felt tight. It's been more than eight years since the day he left us alone on the front porch. What could I say?

I hoisted myself up and proceeded into the bedroom. Edmund had collected himself—somewhat—and stepped aside for me.

"Peter?" Dad said, now leaning against the headboard. Pale, sickly…he had changed a lot.

"Y-yes?" I stammered, sitting gingerly on the bed. I wanted to run and embrace him, but something—fear—held me back. _Fear of what? I'm sixteen years old! I don't know! _

"How…" Dad said, reaching over and touching my face. "You look so different. So…changed. Both of you," he glanced at Edmund, "have changed. You've appeared to…grow up. You've matured. And I'm not just saying that because I'm back from the war and everything appears different. I'm quite serious." His eyes looked a little hurt that I made no move to hug him.

"For one thing," he continued, "Peter! You…you never _cried_!"

I broke down into full-on sobs and fell forward, hugging tightly enough to break a rib. "I cry NOW!" I exclaimed, ashamed of it, and yet eager for the relief that one feels afterwards.

"Apparently!" said Dad, attempting to be humorous, brushing away his own tears.

Mum came in then, putting an arm around Edmund, who was standing by the door. He put both of his arms around her waist and lay his head on her shoulder. "I love you, Mum," he said.

"I love you too," she replied. She must have known this would happen eventually. He'd given a similar—if not so heated and desperate—confession to her when we had arrived at the train station.

Dad pulled a tissue box from beneath the bed. "Look, it's the new thing—much more efficient than hankies." He began passing them out.

The door-bell rang, a cheerful sound to break us from our tearful vale.

"I'll get it," Mum kissed Edmund's head and ran down the stairs.

I opened my mouth to speak when I heard Mum shout something unintelligible. The three of us froze, listening.

"Mum, I can explain everything!"

Susan's voice.

Edmund and I looked at each other, equally shocked.

"Could it be?" Dad whispered.

We both nodded. Nothing was impossible.

"It was my idea, and I edged her on," confessed Lucy's unmistakable voice.

"And I happened to have the extra money," Susan said desperately.

"Please don't be mad!" exclaimed Lucy.

"Sometimes," Mum's voice appeared, "When one thing—that _should_ anger me—happens too much, I become immune to it."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"Why don't you go upstairs and see for yourself?" Mum cried, exasperated.

Edmund, Dad, and I couldn't help but grin at each other.

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**OKAY my dahlins, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I'll write sooner if I can get over ten reviews! I know this one gets twenty or more hits per chapter so I can easily get ten reviews. It's not too hard, takes twenty seconds, requires no membership nor personal info, and makes me happy. And you gotta keep the authors happy to ensure more chapters:-)**

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	67. Christmas!

**Dear Readers,**

**Thanks so much for your reviews, I love love love them! I'm sorry I do not update more often, but the rest of my stories are suffering a bit too as is I do not have much computer time for writing. School has started, and I'm trying to graduate and get college stuff done. Plus my senior project, play practice, etc, is all very overwhelming.**

**Pippin

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**Authors note: I did do some research about Christmas during this time. Yes, they DID have Christmas lights, but they were big fat bulbs and wouldn't be considered very nice today. They are mostly like the ones you hang on the bush you never really liked. And Deanna Durbin in a singer from the 40s and 50s. You can see her singing Silent Night the old film, "Lady on a Train", a good old murder mystery. And yes, they did have popcorn. Hehe. **

**Also, in Lewis's, "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" C.S. Lewis tells us that Eustace overheard the Pevensies talking about Narnia, found out about it, but thankfully thought they were playing a 'silly game!' So gives me the plot material for this chapter!

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**Chapter 67, **

**Christmas!**

"_Promise me you'll look after the others?"_

"_I will Mum, I promise."_

"_There's a faun, and wood! Oh, come and see!"_

"_That's enough, Lucy."_

"_But this time, Edmund went too!"_

"_You're always mean to someone smaller than yourself. You don't care about anyone else's feelings!"_

"_You're all beasts! The faun is much nicer than you!" _

"_Impossible."_

"_You…little…liar!" _

"_The faun Tumnus is hereby charged with high treason against her Majesty, Jadis, for fraternizing with humans."_

"_Only Aslan can save your brother now."_

"_Welcome son of Adam."_

"_That, O Man, is where the four thrones await you."_

"_The Witch has renounced her claim on the son of Adam's blood!"_

"_Are you with me?"_

"_To the death…"_

"_Edmund…"_

"_Peter, is that you?"_

"_Y-yes, I'm Peter…"_

"Peter, helloooo…"

_Hello? Hello what?_

"PETER PEVENSIE!"

_What, for heaven's sake?_

"Wake up, you lazy oaf! The cutting of the tree couldn't have worn you out that much. The Worm just got here, too."

"Edmund," I growled, peaking from behind my blanket. "You took me away from Narnia!"

"I did not," Edmund said, offended. "Mr. Tumnus is the one that told us about the White Stag, anyhow."

"No, no, not then!" I moaned, sitting up. "Just now!"

"_You went to Narnia when you were sleeping_??" Edmund cried, shocked.

"Shhhhhh!" I hissed. "I was dreaming, for heaven's sake." I fell back against the pillow. "I dreamed the whole thing."

"Oh," Edmund said, quite relieved. "I thought you'd gone and had an adventure without me." He sobered. "Peter, we're never going back."

I sat up again, cocking my head. "What makes you think that?"

"We lived our entire lives there," Edmund said solemnly. "There's nothing to go back to but failing in old age and governing a country that, by now, is very used to being on its own."

"I think we'll go back someday!" I declared, pushing him off my bed and getting off of it, stretching.

"And what makes YOU think that?" Edmund asked dubiously.

I gave him a half-grin and tapped my head. "Just a feeling. In there somewhere."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "You and your fantasies."

I frowned. "You aren't starting to disbelieve in Narnia, are you?"

"Never," Edmund shot back. "Susan will swear it never happened in front of all three of us before I ever begin to doubt Narnia's existence."

"That will never happen," I chuckled.

Edmund didn't answer. Finally he just gestured towards the door. "Christmas? Remember that?" He looked annoyed.

Our little house was nestled in a giant snow bank, huddled against an icy wind, and spewing cheery light from inside the frosted windows. The radio was crackling out Deanna Durbin singing "Silent Night", but it was hardly silence in or around home.

My mother, my aunt, and Susan were laughing so loudly in the kitchen that Lucy was moving to cover her ears in annoyance. My father, with his bandaged leg hoisted up on several cushions, was smoking a pipe with my uncle. At the same time, he was trying to direct Edmund where to put his favorite Father Christmas ornament on the spindly pine tree, as he could not get up easily and do it himself. Lucy was sliding popcorn onto the strings to add on the tree branches, but more popped corn was making it into her mouth than actually on the string. My other aunt and uncle, Alberta and Harold, sat on the settee, nibbling on carrot sticks and glaring in disapproval at the other occupants smoking. My little cousin Eustace sat in the corner, looking sulkily at everyone and everything.

I perched myself on the ladder just behind the settee, between the low wall and the front room window. I was nailing the string of Christmas lights to the window border, carefully mingling the wire with the evergreen branches so it was nearly invisible. One of the bulbs, a red one, flickered and went out. I twisted it into its place, and it remained off. I tapped the warm glass. Still nothing. I finally flicked it, hard and much to my fingers pain, and even caused a bit of the red to chip off. But the glow came back.

"That's right, Peter, let the bulbs know who is in charge," my uncle Pottaby laughed so hard his great belly jiggled under his dress coat.

I glared at the bulb.

Uncle Pottaby laughed again. "That son of yours is a lot like you," he said to my father.

"Oh, I don't know about that," my father said, observing the rest of his offspring with a proud look on his face. "They've all seemed to become their own people this last summer. A serious hiding because of the bombing has really matured and developed them. They are totally different people…so…grown up, you know."

I hid my smile. He didn't know half of what we truly went through.

"Eustace!" exclaimed Lucy suddenly, "Stop taking the popcorn!"

"You were eating it mostly, I only took a bit," whined Eustace. I pictured him sticking his thumb in his mouth and sucking on it and pouting.

It made me laugh out loud. Edmund looked at me, looking skeptical of my sanity.

"What are you huffing and puffing about over there?" he asked.

"Nothing," I assured, clambering down from the ladder.

I went up beside him and hung a green ornament where he could not reach. "The Worm is just acting a wee bit sulky." I ducked behind the tree as I said this rude comment. Edmund followed.

"A Wee Bit Sulky?" mocked Edmund in a hushed tone. "Sulky is his middle name."

"Actually, it's Clarence," I hissed back. "Clarence Scrubb!" by now, we were hanging the gingerbread men and giggling like a pair of naiads.

"He almost deserves it," Edmund laughed.

"Almost?" I repeated, encouraging another snort from Edmund.

"What are you two snuffling about back there?" snapped my aunt Alberta, dabbing at her mouth with a lavender hanky.

"Snuffling?" asked Edmund quietly, bursting into another impolite guffaw.

"Only at the gingerbread men!" I cried hastily, holding one aloft so that Alberta may see it as well. "They look funny!"

"Children," sniffed Alberta, swiping another carrot stick off the centerpiece on the small table. She crunched into it noisily, looking with disgust for the thirtieth time around the room.

"Lend me a hand, Peter," said my father, hoisting himself upwards. I walked over and let him lean on my shoulder.

"Where to, your majesty?" I said, rather accustom to calling Edmund that, as was typical in front of guests. _Oops._

"To the Land of Good Food, my dear Knave," my father replied, playing along my mistake without knowing it.

"To the Kitchen it is," I helped him through the dining room and into the steaming kitchen, where the elder women seemed to be everywhere at once. Heaps of dishes and ingredients graced the counters and a delicious smell was wafting out of the stove.

"Yum," my father said, limping forward and sticking his finger dangerously close to the rice pudding. His fingers were promptly slapped away by Susan, who shouted "Shoo! Shoo!" and resembled a mother hen while doing it.

"Please," cried Mum exasperatingly, putting her hands on her hips and glaring. "MUST you be in the kitchen at this time? You'll be all underfoot!"

"Course not," Dad laughed, easing into a chair that was hastily pushed against the wall to be out of the way. "I am going to sit here and stir whatever you hand me."

"Why didn't you say so on entrance??" exclaimed Aunt Pottaby, shoving a bowl of something yellow and a spoon in his lap. "Stir!"

Leaving Dad in good hands, I slipped back into the living room.

"Peter!" called Dad in a singsong voice.

"AGH!" I cried in annoyance. My father had a habit of calling me back just after I left, causing an excruciating amount of waltzing back and forth unnecessarily.

"Whaaat?" I drawled, sticking my head back through the swinging door.

"Why don't you and the rest of the children go out for a bit of snowballing?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Do I haaaaaave to?" I whined, jokingly.

"Me too?" Susan asked.

"Yes! All of you! Get out of here!" Mum slapped Susan on the behind. "Go out into the snow have a bit of fun!"

"Yes'm!" Susan giggled and was at my heels, racing for the closet under our stairs for our winter wear.

"Too bad we don't have any fur coats," Susan snickered.

"We could pretend we're Arctic explorers!" I laughed back.

"Where are you going?" Lucy cried dubiously.

"They are going to go play in the snow, you silly ass," Edmund came out from behind the tree, patted Lucy affectionatly on the head, and joined Susan and I in putting on coats, hats, gloves, scarves, muffs, etc.

"You wanna come, Eustace?" I asked good-naturedly.

"No," he grumbled. "I have allergies."

"I'm not allergic to snow!" Lucy said, abandoning her decorations. She skipped over and joined in the layering up.

Within a few moments time, Edmund and I had beaten the girls outdoors and were half-way through a defense wall when they joined us. Knowing we were preparing for battle, they began stocking up on snowballs behind the car.

"For Narnia!" I shouted, laughing. "And for Aslan!" I let a snowball fly.

A Lucy-sized squawk erupted from behind the car.

"O, Queen Lucy the Valiant!" shouted Susan archly. "Our brothers have rebelled from the Kingdom! I shall avenge you!"

A snowball collided with Edmund's nose. "Oh!" he hollered. "Take that, Susan the Stupid!" he threw another.

"That's Queen Susan the Gentle, to you, knave!"

I threw another snowball. Susan was on the receiving end this time.

"She is NOT gentle," Edmund said, rubbing his nose.

"Eat that, King Peter, High King of Narnia!" Susan threw another, as did Lucy, and both of them landed in my lap.

"I order thee to the DUNGEON!" I yelled back, aiming and firing.

"It was converted to a treasure chamber, you goose!" Lucy cried. "We ruled in peaceful times!"

"Fine, to the chamber with you!" I threw another snowball, but I missed this time.

"Oh High King, ruler of Narnia the land of wonder and beauty," Edmund bowed, "Shall I go capture some prisoners?"

"Of course," I said, laughing.

Edmund ran in front of our defense, and, being pelted by snowballs, ran for the girls hideout intent on tackling them into the snow.

"Narnia?" said a whiny voice. "What's THAT rubbish? Why are you all pretending you're royal?"

Edmund slid to a halt. Susan stopped in mid throw. Lucy peeked up from behind the car. I peered over my snow wall.

Eustace stood there sulking, bundled up so that he resembled a gorilla, with a questioning look on his face.

"Well, I've asked the question! Why doesn't someone answer me?"

I glanced at Susan. She raised her eyebrows. Edmund shrugged.

"We discovered a secret country," Lucy piped up.

"Lucy!" I hissed.

"Lou," Susan warned.

Lucy glared at us. A certain fire was in her eyes that she had when she was seventeen and going through a bit of a rebellious age…back in Narnia.

"We discovered a country," she repeated to Eustace. "This summer while exploring the mansion we stayed in. It's called Narnia, and a Great Lion called Aslan rules it."

"Lucy," I moaned.

"We stayed there for years and years!" she continued, chucking a snowball at me to shut up. "We were Kings and Queens…all four of us! We ruled all the country of Narnia, where there are talking animals, a lamppost in a wood, and tree people. We defeated a witch and a wolf and minotaurs, and I made a friend called Mr. Tumnus…"

The way her eyes lit up as she spoke and the way her voice betrayed how much she missed Narnia, it reminded me of how passionate she was about it all. She was the true Narnian out of all of us. She missed it more than she let on.

But she had stopped talking, for Eustace was laughing.

"You are all daft," he said, laughing. "Telling silly stories and playing silly games. You probably only do it for attention. Well, I shan't tell anyone and make you famous for your fiction. No, I'm going to do the exact opposite of what you want! I won't tell a soul and you won't get a single laugh about it! This is jolly good sport, though, it amuses me. Tell me more."

"No!" Lucy snapped. "You are an unfortunate windbag and don't deserve to hear anything about it, because its as wonderful and TRUE as you are stuffy and rude!"

Eustace's mouth dropped open, as did Susan's and mine. Edmund just burst out laughing. "You tell'em, Lou," he said. "That's right!"

"Lucy, don't be rude," Susan finally managed in her surprise.

"Rude? You call me RUDE?" Lucy the Valiant was truly showing, I could tell. She came around in front of the car and faced Eustace, planting her tiny hands on her hips. "I didn't govern an alternative world for eight-or-so-odd-years to speak to a lowly WORM and waste my time trying to convince him I was a Queen. He deserves what he gets, doesn't he? A few insults won't hurt him, they're bound to just bounce off of his brain like every other truthful tidbit. And I daresay he'll remain as beastly and boring as he ever was."

This time, Edmund's mouth was open too.

"Well," Eustace broke the ensuing silence, "At least we know spending the summer in an old wizards home only injured her mental capabilities and not her tongue."

"That's it," I growled. "Eustace! Get back inside and don't bother us anymore, or stay outside and play snow war and have a little fun with your cousins for once in your life! Forgive Lucy a minor loss of temper, you had it coming. And she has a much higher mental capability than you think she does, and I'll thank you not to say anything of the sort again."

"Or I'll knock you upside the head," added Edmund for good measure.

"But you are all speaking like lunatics!" Eustace protested.

"We sound just like you then," Lucy snapped. She plopped down in the snow right where she stood. Big tears began rolling down her face.

"Oh, dash it all," Eustace grumbled. "Don't cry Lucy. It's babyish. I'll just go in the house and finish the tree." He whirled on heal and marched back inside.

I went to go comfort Lucy. Sometimes I forget she is still very much a little girl, even if she has gone through her teenager years and then rewound back.

Lucy was wiping her face when I reached her. "Well, it worked!" she said brightly, smiling. "Let's start again."

"Lou," I said in shock, "You do beat all! Where'd you learn to be so deceptive?"

"It's easy to know how to be deceptive when you tell the truth all the time," Lucy said wisely, standing. "I'm sorry I blurted everything, but I don't think it'll come to any real harm, will it?"

"I hope not!" Edmund interjected. "We may all end up in an asylum by the end of the year."

"Or back in Narnia," Susan said dreamily.

"We will," Lucy chirped.

"How do you know?" I teased her.

"I just know," Lucy said mysteriously. "Can't YOU? It's that little prickly feeling you get on your neck, when the wind roars like a lion and the sun is in the east."

"I admit, I haven't felt that," I said, a little nervously. Lucy was beginning to scare me a little. She keeps going back and forth to age sixteen and to eight, sixteen to eight.

"Trust me," Lucy said in an eight year old tone, patting my hand. "You'll feel it sometime."

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**Wow! This chapter has been in the making since Christmas! Thanks for being so patient. I love you all!

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**PS: I heartily disprove of Susan fighting. It's like, 100 percent AGAINST her character. There's a reason why she never fought and was with Lucy and Aslan, and why she was called "Queen Susan the Gentle". **

**If you've seen the previews for Prince Caspian (which DO look amazing), You know what I'm talking about. I also disagree with the Susan/Caspian romance ideas. (rumor has it they'll KISS at the end of the movie! How against Lewis can you GET??)**

**I'll be posting a video blog on You Tube sometime about the upcoming PC movie, and all the other controversies for the new movie. **

**See ya'll later!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!! **


	68. The End Of An Age

Review Replies 

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**Princess Lucy: **You are very welcome, your Highness! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :-)

**I Am Me: **I have some unfortunate news for you…a new thirty-sec TV spot/trailer is out for Prince Caspian…and it shows Caspian and Susan kissing. Not a peck, and not on the cheek, either. It looked like the start of a wedding kiss! (I know, I'm appalled and disconcerted too!)

**Joy Potter: **I am a huge fan of your penname. By the way, do read the reply to _I Am Me_ just above yours. Our worst nightmare is becoming real! :-(

**Stradabearius: **Why thank-you! I am so pleased you like it. Do enjoy this chapter, dear.

**LULU: **I plan to continue this series for as long as Disney and Walden Media make movies about Narnia! Or, at least, for as long as Peter exists in them. There will be a sequel planned for Prince Caspian…I know sounds terrible, but I'll probably take notes so I can start the sequel and not wait for the movie to come out on DVD. Plus, they have made SO many changes, it will be very difficult to combine both the book and movie, but like I did with this story, I will do my best. Anywho, thank-you for reading!

**Jessi: **Oh, thank-you thank-you thank-you dear. Your praise makes me blush to the roots of my hair! But I do appreciate your support; it's always so wonderful to know another believer is out there. It makes us feel much stronger, does it not? Thanks for your kind review. This chapter is for you!

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**A note to all:**

**OK, I have decided…that THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER!! **

**_THIS BOOK IS OVER!!_ **

**A contest and a special goodbye note is at the bottom, so do read all. **

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Chapter 68, The End Of An Age

The snow fell in quiet little lumps all around us. Lucy and I made a turn to begin the shortcut through the small patch of woods that ran alongside the street. We'd just finished picking up some items for our Mother at the market, night was falling, and we felt safer…and content...in the woods. It was more familiar…more like home. We walked through the gentle undergrowth where the flakes whispered down through the bows of the heavy-laden pine trees. We could still see the street through the small patch of trees, and the lights of our neighborhood just beyond, but we were in no hurry. We took the slowest steps possible, savoring the smell and the feel. Neither of us spoke…it was a rare moment when we found the atmosphere of Narnia. When those moments came, we absorbed the magic of it.

Suddenly, the moment was spoiled. A short man came walking around the tree and bumped into me. His sudden arrival started Lucy and she let out a shrill scream. For a moment, all of his brightly colored parcels were airborne, and then it all came crashing down.

"Oh I'm sorry," I said, righting myself.

"Child," said the man, not noticing me, but Lucy. "I'm very sorry!"

Lucy's startled eyes turned into a strange, wide stare. She leaned down, not taking her eyes off of him, and picked up one of the packages. She handed it to him, slowly. "Were you hiding from me?" she asked bluntly.

He stared right back, and a puzzled look crossed his face, as if he recognized her from something. "No. I wasn't. But I am so sorry I scared you. I certainly didn't want to scare you. I, uh…" he trailed off into a mumble.

"What are you?" Lucy asked, hopefully.

The man appeared to notice me for the first time, and looked at me quizzically. I shrugged. Lucy seemed to have gone…insane.

"I'm…I'm a person?" the man asked, as if he wasn't sure. "And you are…uh…little girl, I deem?"

"I'm not very little," said Lucy, "I am the tallest in my class."

"But nevertheless human," the man attempted to joke. But he appeared thrown off by her big, brown stare that never left his face. There was nothing extraordinary about his face, either. It seemed normal. But something was up, and I wasn't about to interrupt.

"Of course I'm a human," Lucy said in a very slow voice that hardly sounded human, more like a dryad after a rainfall. Slow and breezy.

"What are you doing?" the man asked, changing tones. "You ought not to be wandering around in the woods. It's quite dangerous. You're quite lucky you ran into me, and not some overgrown thug awaiting small children."

I found myself clenching my fists and slowly letting them relax.

"I could have always hid inside the wardrobe," Lucy said matter of factly.

"Lu," I began, feeling the words choke me in my throat. There must be something wrong with her. She thinks she is back in Narnia or something…

"The wardrobe?" the man asked, acknowledging me once again with a queer, questioning look. "Is there one around here?"

"Perhaps," Lucy said, looking around as well. "They're getting harder to find."

"Well, I'm sure there are a few between the houses here," he pointed to our neighborhood, "And the channel." He pointed in the direction of the seashore. "I do hope you find one that suits your liking."

"Maybe I will," Lucy said, looking at me with eyes that sparkled as if she discovered another country.

"I'm sorry, I've been very rude," said the man, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Thomas, Thomas Jameson." He reached over to shake my hand. I shook it, surprised to find his hand gloveless but nevertheless warm.

Lucy held out her hand as well. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Thomas. I'm Lucy Pevensie."

"It's Jameson," said Thomas, unsure.

That's when I made the connection.

Thomas.

_Tumnus._

What a dimwit I'd been! She thinks that the poor man…

Thomas smiled a little. "It's Thomas _Jameson," _he corrected politely, hesitating to shake her hand, distracted with the dialogue.

"You shake it," Lucy instructed carefully, looking down to her untouched hand.

"Yes, yes of course, I beg your pardon," he complied with the shaking of her hand. His hand twitched as if shocked. "Very nice to meet you, Lucy Pevensie, the explorer of Wardrobes." He gave a quick nod to me. "I must be off." They released hands. "Pleasure. Miss Pevensie…Sir." He made sure he had all his belongings and then continued down the woodsy path. He made an abrupt turn. "I don't suppose I could make amends for startling you so by asking you both for some tea?"

"No," Lu said before I could even open my mouth. "I don't think so, but thank-you for the offer."

"Good bye, then," the man said, turning again and walking lightly…almost on tiptoe…down the path and out of sight.

"LUCY!" I cried with pure astonishment as soon as he was out of sight. "You don't POSSIBLY think…"

"No," Lucy said, her eyes brimming with tears. "It was just a little magic."

"What do you MEAN, Lu? You acted like an interrogator to the poor man."

Lou continued on, not replying.

"Lucy, please tell me what was going on back there," I said, pleading with her. "I swear, I won't tell Ed or Susan."

"Don't you think I need closure too?" Lucy snapped at me suddenly, her eyes glinting. "I lost my best friend this summer, did you ever think of that??"

"Lu, I knew that, you cried for days and days after we returned to the professors' about it…"

"When Aslan sends someone a gift, would you question it?" Lucy asked quietly, her whole demeanor changing till she seemed childlike again. "I've always wanted to relive that moment. And I just did. In fact, I don't think that man was even real."

"Why do you say that?"

"He didn't leave any footprints."

Lucy walked faster and left the tree border, breaking into a trot as she reached the street. I saw her skip ahead and enter our house, pausing for a moment to wave at me before passing inside.

I suppressed a shiver. There was something inevitably creepy about meeting someone at night in the patch of woods, having your sister go Mad for a few minutes, and the mysterious stranger leaving no footprints.

I hurried to go into the comfort and warmth of the house, not getting out of the forest shadow quickly enough for my own taste. Just before I stepped onto the street, I could have sworn I heard the musical tone of Mr. Tumnus's lullaby float over the treetops and rise to the moon with a breeze. An icy wind suddenly howled through the branches like the cry of wolves. The hair stood on the back of my neck. The howling grew louder. The clamor grew louder and louder, and I began to trot to the house like Lucy had. I reached the porch and immediately, I felt safe. Something caused me to turn.

I looked back at the tiny patch of woods, looking strangely taller and more threatening than it ever had been. A shape crawled from its edge, to the edge of the street. Two golden eyes looked into mine.

The shape, kind of like a large dog, rose until it stood like a hulking, heavyset man. And then it howled. An ache in my belly began. The lone cry rose higher in pitch until it was a scream.

I jerked in surprise, and found myself in bed. It had all been a dream. I'd been dreaming a lot about Narnia lately. It was just so weird.

The howling was still going, though. The little terrier next door was upset about something again.

I wiped my eyes and struggled from beneath the covers. I looked out the window at the snow and blue moonlight, trying to catch my breath.

"Aslan," I whispered into the night, trying not the wake Edmund. "Will we ever go back?"

The terrier was suddenly silenced, and a wind whistled around the eaves.

Shaking with fear, or sleepiness, or nervousness, I went back to bed and crawled beneath the covers, holding my hands over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.

Sleep did not come.

Voices whispered in the wind, voices crying for Narnia. I could hear the drums of the dwarves, the lutes of the fauns, the giggles of the naiads, the wails of the hags, the howls of the werewolves, the whispers of the dryads, and even the pounding hooves of the centaurs.

If I didn't go back, I would go crazy.

Maybe I already was.

I leapt from my bed, ran to the cupboard, opened it, and stepped inside. I slammed my fist into the back…nothing!

I came back out, slipped on a pair of shoes, grabbed a jacket, and crept quietly out the door. The hall was long and dark, and it seemed an eternity before I thumped down the stairs. I sneaked past the living room, passed through the kitchen, and creaked open the backdoor.

"I needed some fresh air, Mum," I practiced, just in case she caught me sneaking out. "I'll be back in a jiffy. No, that's too energetic. I head a strange noise, Mum, I was just checking things out…no, that's too suspicious. Mum? That terrier next door is barking again. I am on my way to shoot it now. No, that'll never do any good. What are you doing, Peter? Oh, you know, Mum, I'm going dancing at the club with Leyli. Nothing too bad, right? Well, no… okay…Mum, I can't sleep, I wanted to look at the moon. There we go. That's me!"

I was in the yard, and my excuses were in vain. Their bedroom light remained off, and the snow screened the sounds I made crossing the yard. I went to the back gate, cut through the alley between two houses, and found myself in the street.

I must look so stupid.

I crossed the street and looked at what was beyond. A broad, bare hill, covered with snow, (used to be for haying) about an acre large (the owners refused to sell so it could become a London park) was waiting for me.

I found the snow up to my ankles, so it wasn't too bad. The snow made the sound of wet feather pillows being squeezed as I came to the crest of the hill.

Turning in a circle and surveying the lovely view, blue and shadowy as if underwater, I tilted my head back.

Above, the stars were fading with dawn approaching, and clouds were beginning to form.

"WHY?" I shouted suddenly, surprising even myself. "WHY, for God's sake! WHY DID YOU…" I paused, then shook my fist at the sky. "HOW COULD YOU??"

There was silence. The terrier barked once, and then was quiet.

"WE LIVED THERE!" I cried out, angry waves of grief, disappointment, and an overwhelming sense of loss engulfing me. "THAT WAS MY HOME! THAT'S…" I broke down, not crying or anything, but breathing too hard to continue shouting. "That's where I belonged…" I whispered. My heart and head hurt.

"WHY?" I began again, feeling the worst, wrenching anger in my gut, angrier than I'd ever felt before. I picked up a handful of snow and threw it away from me as hard as I could, grunting as it flew from my hand. It plopped down harmlessly.

"Aslan!" I shouted, dropping to my knees and banging my fists on the ground. "How could you DO this to me? To ALL of us?? How do you expect us to cope??"

There was no answer.

"FINE!" I screamed, frustrated with the lack of miraculous replies and with myself for losing my temper with an absent lion. "FINE, ignore me! That's what you do best, huh? You set us up and then leave us on the precipice to pick up the pieces of our lives! Maybe you never…even…CARED!"

With those last words, I immediately regretted them. Almost instantly, a horrible realization of guilt struck me. Vibes of sadness, the deepest kind of grief, seemed to throb around me…but not FROM me…from HIM. That's how HE was feeling.

"I'm sorry," I said, after a pause. "I…I didn't mean it. I don't know what's come over me. I'm just so…wretched."

…So utterly wretched. "Forgive me…please!"

Suddenly, a funny thought…out of the blue…and not even in my own voice, popped into my head.

"Son of Adam," the thought said in a rich voice. "Rise."

I stood hastily, unsteady with surprise. I looked around me, but the voice was not coming from anywhere.

"You are my child, and I love you," said the voice. "Do not forsake all you have learned for memory's sake. What has happened, happened, and what will happen…will happen! All things will be woven together in good if you only trust me."

"I trust you," I said, feeling tingly all over, as if being shocked with electricity.

"Stop being Peter the boy, as you once were, BE who YOU BECAME. You are High King Peter! I have given you a sacred title, do not throw it to the dogs!"

"I won't, I won't," I resolved. "Aslan?" I asked. "Can you hear me? I'm I imagining your voice in my head because I'm being delusional?"

"No, because you wouldn't have listened otherwise."

I bowed my head humbly. "Oh, Aslan, if only I could KNOW it. Can't you SHOW me? I have such horrible doubts…I was king of Narnia, but I don't feel like it anymore!"

"Once a King or Queen or Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia."

"I was king of Narnia…then."

"Endure!" His voice was like a crack of thunder. "ENDURE!"

Suddenly, there was a flash of light so blinding that it knocked me to the ground again. I could have sworn I saw HIM, in all of his glory and light, but it was just a thunderhead cloud in the figure of a lion…and behind it, the sun burst out from behind the hilly horizon with such ferocity I had to cover my eyes. Sunrays seemed to dart out and stretch their fingers with lightening speed until I felt their warmth touch on my face.

Colossal clouds of gold and white billowed up and over until it began to rain. The sun lit the rain from behind, creating a curtain of gems soaring downward. I was immediately soaked, but I never felt happier. I felt complete.

I was King of Narnia…always.

I turned and let the sunrise warm my back, and with a sigh of complete contentment, began walking over the blinding, melting snow towards home.

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**WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! I can't believe it's actually over! This has been an incredible journey for me. I've been working on it for over a year, I feel weird ending it.**

**But no worries. Within a few days after Prince Caspian's release, there shall be….a….SEQEUL! **

**And what is the title, you ask? Never fear. **

_**THE CONTEST**_

YOU CHOOSE THE TITLE! Send me your ideas, and for a prize...um...a cyber hug...and I'll use your title!

Here are the rules:

1) Must be medium size. Not a stuffed mouthful, but not a ladybug size, either.

2) Must incorporate the "King of Narnia" ish title with the Caspian theme/title/story.

HERE'S AN EXAMPLE: "Always King of Narnia: The Return"

3) Send your ideas thru your reviews, not an email message. I can't check my email at school, but I CAN check fan fiction!

4) I'll put a little authors note (basically chapter 69) letting you guys know who won.

Well anyways, that's it. Do participate, I promise, it'll be fun!!

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FOR your RANDOM information...

**The summary should look something like this:**

**The sequel to "I was King of Narnia". Peter's POV epic story continues, combining both book, movie, and me filling in the gaps. Rated T for violence and emotional drama. **

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My goodbye...sniff

**I love you guys! Thanks for being part of this tale. Without you, there would NOT have been a story. Special thanks to those who have been with me since the beginning like Reepicheepet, Scissorhero (and MANY MANY OTHERS but I cannot list you all) thank-you so much for spending so much time on this. It seems silly to ask ANYONE to read 68 darn chapters, but you did! And it makes me feel so blessed! **

**Onto the sequel, my loves!**

**Further up and further in!**

**God bless you!**

**--Pip**

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**PS: I know its hard to be patient, but do not give up on this story, do read the sequel! It will be hard to start a new novel and gain the same plethora of a fan base for me, but I know you can help me. **

**ONE WEEK UNTIL THE RELEASE.**

**ONE WEEK!**

**And, come on, you guys, it's the last chapter for this story...it's your last chance to review for this story EVER! So please review**

**the little purple/gray/lavender/blue/whitish button**

**right **

**below**

**this**

if you don't, werewolves WILL come to your doorstep :-)


	69. The Sequel Title Announced

Authors Notice

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**Hey you guys! I am seeing Prince Caspian TOMORROW FOR A SPECIAL MIDNIGHT SHOWING! I AM SOOOO EXCITED!**

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**Here's the deal; both "I Am Me" and "Princess Lucy" had very creative ideas, and I couldn't say no to either! In fact, all of the choices presented by the other reviewers were very good! It was really, really hard to choose a favorite…actually, I kinda failed with that too. I couldn't decide between Am or Lu! (do you mind if I call ya Am and Lu? I'm a sucker for nicknames)**

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**Am's Idea:**

I Am King of Narnia: Now and Forever

**Lu's Idea: **

Return of a King

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**So, as you can guess, I compromised. :-)**

The title shall be a mix of the two. It will be called………….

Drum roll please!

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**I Am King of Narnia: The Return**

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I hope this is an OK turnout for everybody? I like this title…its tastes good, you know? You can like, savor the excitement in the words! (OK, maybe I'm just getting weird now. Let me know if you want me to go back to my insanity asylum.)

God Bless you!

Further up and further in!

Pip

(ONE DAY!!)


	70. THE SEQUEL IS POSTED

**THE SEQUEL IS POSTED ON MY PROFILE.**

"**I am King of Narnia: The Return"**


End file.
